


A Trickster for the Darkness

by Autumn_Maple_Tree



Series: The Ancestor [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-15
Updated: 2016-06-15
Packaged: 2018-07-15 04:05:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 37
Words: 74,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7207046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Autumn_Maple_Tree/pseuds/Autumn_Maple_Tree
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gabriel reappears at the exact moment the Darkness is released and he knows, somehow, he must find Olle, the only one in Creation who can help him get his brother out of the Cage and make sure the Winchesters are still around to clean up their mistakes. It doesn't take long for the archangel to realize things are going to be much, much harder than he thought they were; and that is definitely saying something.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this original character in mind for a while and considered using him for a few different things, but, somehow, this happened. What would happen if things were a LOT more complicated than any of us thought? What if we followed the canon and mythology and the religion all to their logical conclusions? Or, my logical conclusions anyway. A lot of things have been implied by the show, but never stated out right, and I'm taking advantage of many of those things here. 
> 
> I have a plan for where this is all going, but I have no idea if it will ever get there. 
> 
> This is the very first time EVER, and I'm 35 years old, I've EVER let ANYONE read ANYTHING I've EVER written. 
> 
> Please, if you can't be kind, at least be funny.

Gabriel woke up on the floor of that run down hotel ballroom in Muncie, Indiana at dawn. After a quick self-assessment, he came to the conclusion he was back better, stronger, healthier, and more focused than he had been since the beginning. Realizing years had passed, it took him a while to get his bearings, his first thoughts were of getting caught up on what he had missed while avoiding detection. The first thing he realized, without knowing how, was The Darkness had been released. Like the world's worst Thanksgiving dinner; where the one relative you never see shows up and drinks too much then starts talking politics and religion. His aunt needed to be put down, again, but his brother, the bag of dicks who left him on the ballroom floor, was the only creature he knew of who could be of any help. Luci joining the party, however, meant Sam being hollowed out and Gabriel would die, again, before he let that happen. So, his brother needs to crawl his way out of the Cage, and the Pit, and find himself a body; one that won’t explode and is not Sam Winchester. All of this meant he found himself tracking a man he knew wouldn't help him but he was knocking on the window of a nearly new Jag startling the two people asleep in the back awake anyway.

“Jesus Gabe!” the woman says opening the door and crawling out onto the ground to stand up while her companion slides out the other side and stands to his full, impressive, height and stretches.

“Yeah, man, what the fuck?” the giant says bracing over the roof of the car on his forearms.

“The Darkness,” the angel starts but is cut off by the beautiful brunette on the ground at his feet.

“Yeah, we know, help me up already.” She is beautiful, Gabriel realizes when she is standing in front of him. Her dark hair is thick and full. French braided tightly to her skull hanging down to her waist, her eyes are the same rich, almond shaped, hazel he sees staring at him from across the hood of the car, her lips, also an exact replica of her companion's, are sinfully full and pouty, and her Rubenesque figure hides a strong, powerful physique that is only a couple inches shorter than him.

He lets go of her hands with a startled realization and looks over to the man he came to see, “When, how, did you manage this?”

The woman laughs, “Beth, Gabe, my name is Beth.” She reaches out and wraps the angel in what would be a bone crushing embrace for a human, “I'm so, so glad to see you! This?” she gestures at herself, “It happened a few weeks ago, history finally caught up with us and, boy, did we need a coping mechanism! So...” she shrugs and smiles, “that's how it happened.”

Gabriel laughs, “Then Creation really is a paradox. Will you ever tell me the whole story?” The big man grins and shakes his head, Gabriel laughs again, “Look Olle, man, I've been vertical for about an hour and a half and I came back to a shit storm. How about we just get on with it? I need a favor.”

“Let's go, I'm starving,” Olle says sliding in the driver's seat.

Beth falls back into the back seat and says, “Come on Gabe, I gotta eat, and this mess will keep for a couple hours.” He shrugs and slides in the front seat thinking they may help him since they haven't sent him packing yet.

Ten minutes of silence later, Olle pulls into a Cracker Barrel and, once the waitress has walked away with their beverage order, he turns to Gabriel and says, “Where have you been?”

Gabriel is slowly freaking out, worried and angry, so he can't understand how Olle is being so nonchalant about this whole situation. “Does it even matter?” he asks desperately. “The Darkness has been released and you're sitting here waiting on coffee!”

“Every other angel in Creation,” Beth says quietly as the waitress comes up to sit down their drinks, “is fallen.” Gabriel starts at that, taking in a deep breath and looking between the two of them for answers while Beth starts to add Splenda to her cup. As the waitress walks away she continues, “But not you. You're dry aged Kobe in a world of canned cornned beef. Where have you been?” She scoops ice from her water glass into her coffee then takes a sip, waiting, while the angel stares between them.

With a frustrated sigh he answers their question, “I was dead, okay,” he says defensively. “Gone! Until I woke up on the filthy ballroom floor of that hotel where Luci gutted me.” He grabs his hot chocolate and takes a drink before going on, “Best I can figure, that was sunrise. I was disoriented and I spent the first hour just trying to play catch up on everything I've missed these past eight years; and I'm still not sure what's happened!”

Olle says, “Let me catch you up. First off: Sam said 'yes' to your brother and jumped in the pit, dragging Michael with them. Cas freed Sam's body but left his soul, by accident, and Dean was forced to make a deal with Death to get it back. Sam's sanity was protected by Death; however, his protections were later compromised and Sam was lost for a while.”

Gabriel gapes at them, too shocked to really speak while it all sinks in.

“Crowley is the King of Hell,” Beth chimes in.

Gabriel looks like he is about to say something but, instead, his mouth snaps shut with a clink of teeth and Olle smiles saying, “There is a story there for a later day, when we are all together and Crowley can hear it too.”

Gabriel motions for him to continue, so he does, “Raphael intended to gather the angels and lay siege to Hell, break open the Cage and restart the Apocalypse. Crowley and Cas, in an attempt to stop Raphael, conspired to siphon power from the souls in Purgatory, causing Eve to crash the party again.” Gabriel opens his mouth again, about to speak, but Olle stops him, “I still have no idea where your nephew is, but the boys put Eve back where she belongs.”

Gabriel stops trying to interrupt and picks up his hot chocolate again while Olle continues, “Cas double crossed Crowley and, after killing Raphael and trying to become the new God, ended up freeing all the Leviathans.”

The waitress returns and they order before the big man continues, “Three of the tablets and the Keeper of the Word were revealed. Dean and Cas spent a year trapped in Purgatory after sealing away the Leviathans. Sam undertook the Black Trials to shut the Gates of Hell but, when Dean found out Sam had to die, he put a stop to it.”

Olle stops to take a drink so Beth continues, “Metatron was found,” she says his name with a sneer, “and he betrayed everyone by working a spell to cast all the angels out of Heaven. The Keeper of the Word was killed and Metatron has assured no new prophets. Cas spent a little more than a year human, since Metatron used his Grace as the catalyst for the spell, while all the angels fought amongst themselves; the fall out was horrendous.”

Olle goes on from there, “Abadon finally fell out of a closet, literally, so Crowley found Cain. Dean took the Mark from his grandfather and killed Abadon. Metaron used the Angel Tablet to manipulate, pretty much everything and began to attempt to declare himself God, even exposing his newfound abilities to humanity. He killed Dean while Dean still bore the Mark. Metatron's betrayal was revealed, he was captured, and imprisoned. Crowley fled the Men of Letters Bunker with Dean, using the blade to raise him as a demon.”

“What they did those eight months,” Beth says with a shudder, “I don't want to think about.”

Olle glares at her for interrupting but goes on with a smile after she sticks her tongue out at him, “When Deanmon,” Gabriel snickers at that and Olle smiles, mission accomplished, “When he became a liability to Crowley, the King sold his boy toy out to Sam; who cured his brother and set out to find a way to remove the Mark. Cain was perpetrating a purge, which I was more than happy to let him get on with, but Dean cut his head off with the blade.”

“I'll miss him,” Beth says sadly before Olle continues with a nod.

“Using the Book of the Damned, which apparently we didn't hide well enough, and that Nadia bitch's codex, they were, apparently, successful in removing the Mark; thereby releasing your aunt from where your father locked her away.” Olle turns to Beth, “Did I miss anything?”

She shakes her head and says, “Dean finally obliterated the Styne family and killed Death,” as the waitress sits their food down and they all eat in silence while Gabriel tries to let everything he just learned sink in; he knows it will take him weeks to come to terms with all of it.

When he is finished with his pancakes and the waitress has refilled all their glasses, Gabriel looks over at them and says, “We need to get Lucifer out of the cage and leave Michael there. He'll need a vessel and I won't give him Sam!”

Olle looks at Beth, who nods, before he begins to speak. “If I agree to this Gabe, and I'm not saying I will, you have to accept that he could be too far gone to come back. If the disillusion of the Mark hasn't given him back his sanity, and we manage to free him, I'll kill him before I release him on the world.”

“And Gabe,” Beth says gently, “he might be too broken either way.”

“There has to be a way to get him out. I know him, he'll be fine now.” Gabriel sounds more like he needs it to be true than he believes that is how it is.

Beth reaches out and takes his hand in a quick, reassuring squeeze before saying, “We gotta go to Hell then, I guess.”

Gabriel squeezes back and sighs before saying, “There is the Devil's Gate in the Black Forest that opens close to the Cage; it is the one we used to get in and out while we were building it.”

“I remember,” they both say in unison. Gabriel laughs and follows them out to the cashier; he is going to be very amused with two of them around.

Once they return to the car, Olle says, “We have no idea where your aunt is, what Sam and Dean are doing, if they are even still alive, or if this plan of yours to free Lucifer and trap Michael will work. Please tell me you can at least get the gate open without every magickal obstacle we put there to stop anyone from opening the Cage pouring out?”

“Of course I can,” he says more confidently than he actually feels. Being dead, it occurs to him, has really put a damper on his personality. “Now, suit up.”

“How, exactly,” Beth asks with a smile, “did you manage, over the course of the last few hours, to quote The Avengers?”

“I don't like what Marvel did to me,” he says indignity, “I was quoting NPH from How I Met Your Mother.”

“Do you object to the divergence from mythology or the fact they cast a ginger in the part then dyed his hair?” Olle asks.

“That pisses me off!” Beth says. “Tom Hiddleston is beautiful, though, so I can forgive just about anything.”

“We're good to go,” Olle says with a laugh. Beth nods agreement and, with a snap from Gabriel, they're standing in the Black Forest.

“It all offends me,” Gabriel says, “but you're right about Hiddleston. How was the movie?” He starts off through the forest calling behind them, “It's this way.” Olle and Beth follow, all three of them concealing angel blades as they go almost silently through the trees.

After about fifteen minutes they reached Triberg Waterfalls and, pulling his blade, Gabriel leads them into the water and straight back behind the falls, through the rock-face, and into a cavern he had hidden away before Pangaea broke apart. Once inside, they all come up short at the sight of Balthazar, blade at the ready, looking confused and frightened.

“What the hell is going on?” he asks not dropping his guard but looking frantically between his brother and the others. “I've been trapped here for hours and I don't even know where here is!” He looks pointedly at his brother and says, “Gabriel is that you? Jesus Christ, I thought you were dead! What is going on?”

“Balthazar?” Gabriel asks confused. “How did you get here?”

Balthazar puts his blade away with a thought and slumps onto a large rock saying, “The last thing I remember was darling Cassie giving me the shank and then I woke up here hours ago and I couldn't get out. Did Cas do this? You know he's trying to open Purgatory don't you?” He stops and, after giving Beth a silent, appreciative, once over, asks, “Who are they?”

Gabriel sighs, apparently he is not the only one Dad brought back. “You've been dead a while Balthazar,” Gabriel says leaning against the cavern wall. “Years, in fact, apparently; just like me. And, Purgatory is the least of our worries.” Gabriel reaches out to his brother and places a hand on his forehead; Balthazar gasps and Gabriel says, “Naomi did a number on you.” Gabriel begins to glow with the power of his Grace, the air in the cavern becomes static, the enormous shadow of archangel power fills the space, and the earth trembles. Balthazar cries out, reaching both hands out in a vise like grip to his brother's wrist, as his body absorbs Gabriel's power. “There,” Gabriel says pulling his hand away, “you should remember everything she ever took from you.”

“The Darkness,” Balthazar says looking up at his brother slightly terrified.

“I know,” he says with a smirk. “Come on, we need Luci to settle this.” Balthazar nods seriously and everyone follows Gabriel deeper into the earth.

Venturing through the damp cavern, deeper and deeper into the earth, lit fully by an unseen light source, Gabriel stops them at a fissure in the cavern wall at the edge of an underground lake. Protruding from the fissure is an archangel's sword buried to the hilt; it looks much like the blade of a Grigori only larger, like a broadsword.

“Here we go,” Gabriel says. “Once I pull my sword free the door will open and I need one of you,” he gestures to Olle and Beth, “to stay here because you'll be the only one powerful enough, besides an archangel, to open and close the door.” Beth nods at Olle and grabs the hilt with both hands. Everyone else readies their angel blades and, with a nod from Gabriel, Beth pulls the sword free from the rock.

The fissure grows to take on the shape of a ten foot archway, wide enough for the three men to walk through the black void abreast. “Give us an hour, then open the door,” Gabriel says as they all disappear into the void. Beth sinks the four feet of blade into the center of the door and the fissure closes around it once more. She glances at her watch and worries an hour is too long; that is over five days in Hell, and anything could happen. She sinks down next to the wall, angel blade in hand, watchful.


	2. Chapter 2

 A sea of Holy Fire surrounds them when they appear in Hell and Balthazar shrinks in on himself asking, “What the fuck Gabriel?”

“It's alright little brother,” Gabriel says reassuringly, “we follow the path,” he gestures before them at the narrow, winding path stretching out as far as they can see, “and it will bring us to a sealed chamber leading to the Cage.”

“Come on kid,” Olle says with a smirk, “stay between us and don't trip.”

The three of them move silently and quickly along the path and, after about two hours time, the path widens out into a large clearing about twenty-five feet in diameter and Gabriel stops them all before they actually set foot in it. “Olle,” he says looking over his shoulder, “do you remember where we are?”

“It's the Balrog,” Olle says quietly, “ the seals were broken and no one has ventured this way since we hung the Cage; we'll have to get past all seven of them.” Olle sighs, “And do it before they can summon the horde.” Olle takes Balthazar's blade from him and says, “I'd like to take this opportunity to remind you I thought it was a bad idea to banish them here and, also, to ask you if you are strong enough to heal this body, even here, surrounded by Holy Fire?”

“Between the two of us,” Gabriel says moving him and his brother around to let Olle pass into the circle, “you'll be okay until Lucifer can take you and that should heal you completely.”

“That's it?” Balthazar asks incredulous. “You're just going to let him go?”

Gabriel smiles, “He can't be killed little brother, not by anything.” Both angels turn to the circle, Olle had reached the center and the ground around them begins to quake.

It must be said, now, that Tolkien thought he was mad at first when he was told stories of a time before the time of man, when the Garden of Eden was remembered by the living and all the universe was contained in Heaven, Purgatory, and The Middle. Peter Jackson's depiction of the Balrog was eerily accurate and yet far too cuddly to do justice to the real thing. An incestuous abomination bore of Eve and her first son, the father of dragons, the seven rose from the Holy Fire and marched into the clearing to surround Olle, who stood his ground. “Old one,” their voices echoed in unison, “you shall not pass.” The language they spoke was older than memory for all except those before them.

“The Darkness has been released,” Olle spoke calmly, “and the Morningstar must be freed to take up arms against the destruction of us all. Will you grant safe passage to the maker of the Cage?”

“Why would we allow the one who trapped us here the chance to free the one who locked away our salvation?” They speak in unison and it echos through the vastness around them.

They begin closing in even further on Olle and Gabriel takes the opportunity to grab Balthazar and skirt the very edges of the Holy Fire as they make their way to the other side of the clearing. When they reach the path along the other side, Gabriel takes off at a dead run dragging Balthazar behind him. Fading quickly behind them, the roar of the Balrog and the clashing of blade, whip, and horn could be heard. For the rest of the day they ran at full speed, Gabriel never allowing them to slow down, before they reached another clearing; this one half the size of the first.

The angels stopped on the edge of the clearing and Gabriel gestured for Balthazar to follow him slowly around the edges of the open space. As they reached the halfway point of the clearing, the ground began to quake and, from behind them, erupted the roar of a Balrog as it leapt into the center of the clearing. Protruding from it's torso were both of Olle's blades and hanging, mangled, bleeding, and broken, from its left claw was the man himself; for all intents and purposes he was quite dead. The Balrog, heaving in pain and exhaustion, roared again and used the sizable man as a weapon, flinging him at the angels; both managed to dodge in opposite directions, barely avoiding the projectile human. Olle's body skidded across the clearing into the Holy Fire; only his right arm, laying at an odd angle, protruding from the fire.

Gabriel threw his blade to Balthazar and, to his brother's amazement, charged the beast before them unarmed. Grace pouring out of him, the sound of clashing warriors echoed through Hell as Gabriel made contact with the creature. Using his Grace as a weapon, the archangel cut his way into the Balrog's space and took hold of the blade protruding from his left shoulder, pulling it free. Staggering to the right, the fire demon tried to retreat back into the deadly fire but Gabriel moved into the retreating space to drive the angel blade into the creature's throat before taking hold of the other blade nestled in his lower abdomen and gutting the Balrog from hip to throat. Pulling both blades free, he turned to Balthazar and roared, “Get him out of the fire!”

Balthazar shook himself violently to regain motor function and turned to pull Olle back into the clearing. The giant of a man was clearly dead, Balthazar thought. His flesh, where it remained, was charred black, his left arm, both legs, and most of the flesh and muscle on his face were burnt completely away; the bone blackened and starting to crumble. He had been gutted much like the Balrog just now, his neck was obviously broken, as well as his shoulder and elbow being clearly dislocated. “He's dead,” Balthazar said flatly when Gabriel came up to him, Grace contained once again.

“Dammit Olle!” Gabriel said looking at the charred remains at his feet. Gabriel put his hand on Olle's head and took a deep breath before he began to pulsate with Grace once again. As Gabriel's Grace poured into Olle's body, his bones righted themselves and, though charred, the skin began to reappear. Olle's eyelids flew open and his mouth formed a horrible 'o' shape. The sight was made even more horrific by the fact his eye sockets were empty, his tongue was shriveled and immobile, and his lungs were still unable to move oxygen; Gabriel knew, however, that Olle was in an agony no one could hope to understand.

Balthazar flinched and made to turn away but Gabriel grabbed him and said, “Help me!” Balthazar reached out and placed his hand on Olle's chest as his Grace began to pour out of him. After a moment, piercing, agonizing screams filled the air and eyes, wild with shock and pain, bore into Gabriel as the archangel redoubled his efforts to heal and began to murmur soothing noises to the man on the ground. It couldn't have taken more than five minutes before Olle was fully healed and, now, cradled in both Gabriel and Balthazar's lap.

The screams had stopped just moments ago, Olle's eyes were closed, and he was clinging to both angels attempting to catch his breath. After a few measured breaths he looked up into Gabriel's face and said, “Do you think it would be presumptuous of me to ask you to snap me up something to wear?” Gabriel huffed a laugh as the big man got slowly to his feet; he was over six and a half feet of thick, corded muscle, dark hair, and a plethora of tattoos. Gabriel thought it almost seemed a shame to cover him up, but, with a snap, he was wearing nearly too tight jeans, black combat boots, and a forest green Henley over a gray t-shirt. “Thanks Gabe,” he said picking up one of the angel blades on the ground by Gabriel's hip. “Let's go.” Olle began to jog across the clearing, past the body of the Balrog, down the path once more and both angels got up silently to follow.

Passing quickly along the rest of the path, they are forced to do battle with a only a few fire spirits, but have spent two and a half days in the pit when they reached the doorway leading to the Cage. Gabriel constructed the Cage and banished his brother there once Michael cast him out of Heaven to Earth, he was the only one who could open this door and, without breaking seals or using the horseman rings, the only one who could open and close the Cage. Placing his palm flat on the door it opened with a push.

Once inside the antechamber, Gabriel's attention was drawn by the sound of whimpers in the far corner of the room. The door to the Cage was blown open and the noise was coming from beneath the rubble, blade in hand Gabriel approached soundlessly. Balthazar threw the door across the room and Gabriel grabbed the creature beneath, pressing him violently into the wall, before he realized it was Lucifer. Even without a vessel, and in his broken mental state, he still managed to look like Nick and he slumped back to the floor to cower when Gabriel gasped and let him go.

“Watch him,” Gabriel said to Balthazar as he motioned to Olle to follow him into the Cage.

Once inside, they found Michael's vessel, Adam Milligan; throat sliced and eyes burned out of his skull. Underneath the body Olle found a glowing glass vial and, picking it up, said, “This is Michael's Grace, Gabriel.”

“Keep it,” Gabriel said, “we may need it.” Olle pocketed the vial as they both continued to search, finding nothing else of import.

Back in the antechamber, Balthazar was slumped on the broken door staring at Lucifer where he cowered, still where Gabriel had dropped him. Both angels looked up when Gabriel and Olle returned. “Find anything?” Balthazar asked standing.

“Michael is dead,” Gabriel said looking over at Lucifer.

Lucifer flinched at those words and started to babble, “Michael, Darkness, Eve, I couldn't let them go, he hurt me, he was going to hurt all of us; they can't be together. You,” he jerks his head up at Gabriel backing away into the corner near the exit, “I killed you Gabriel, you're dead, you're dead, you're dead!” He starts to shake and slide down the wall crying, “Oh Father forgive me! Gabriel forgive me! You're dead, I killed you! I killed you! I killed you!” Lucifer continues to mumble, “I killed you,” repeatedly as he cries and, huddled around himself, rocks back and forth against the wall unable to focus on anything around him.

Gabriel starts to cry as he falls to his knees between his brother's legs and takes him in his arms whispering soft, soothing words of forgiveness. “Hush, hush, big brother; it's alright, I'm here, and I forgive you; hush.”

Olle sits down Indian style, facing the both of them, and reaches out to put a hand on both their backs before saying softly, “Gabriel,” the angel looks over at him, “can I talk to him?” Gabriel looks back to his brother and notices he has calmed some as Olle moves his hand slowly up and down his back; he nods and disentangles himself from the Devil to move away.

Olle moves to press his back into the wall and maneuvers Lucifer back to chest against him so he can wrap his arms around him and the angel can rest his head on Olle's shoulder. “Do you remember the Darkness Lucifer?” Olle asks quietly. “The lock and key your Father gave you to guard?” The angel whimpers and starts to pull away but Olle holds him tightly and soothes him, rocking side to side making 'ssshhh' noises. “It's okay, it's okay. Tell me, do you remember what happened after?”

Lucifer nods, starts to cry again, and says, “I was insane! I...how could I? Cain!” He wraps his arms around himself and leans forward like he is in pain. Olle soothes him again before he continues, “Gabriel was right to lock me away but, Sam! Sam! I don't deserve to be free! I have to, you have to,” he pulls away and looks up at Olle, “I deserve to die for everything I've done, but death is too good for me!”

He's crying again and Olle just rocks him for a few minutes before saying, “Lucifer, the Darkness is free and we need your help to stop her. You can't stay here anymore, not like you are, it isn't safe.”

Lucifer shakes his head violently and says, “I won't do that! Not again! Not to Sam! Not after everything I've done to him, everything I've taken from him! I'll stay here. I'll be fine. No one will find me. I'll stay here.” He is nodding, repeating, “I'll stay here,” over and over.

“Lucifer, do you know what I am?” Olle asks casually as he rocks with both arms wrapped around Lucifer, one across his chest the other around his waist.

“You're the first thing Cain ever gave the Mark to. You're the thing that tore the Universe apart.”

“You should read the Silmarillion; Tolkien did a great job of sugar coating it.” Olle laughs, “I guess I am, at that, but do you remember what I did for Gabe?” Lucifer nods and Olle goes on, “I want to do the same thing for you. I will let you use me as your vessel when we get back to Earth and, after a ritual, I'll be able to give you a body that looks just like you do now. You'll be just as strong as if you were in your true vessel, and Sam Winchester will be free and safe. Can I do that for you Lucifer?”

Lucifer nods and asks, “Can Gabriel stay with me?”

Gabriel squats in front of his brother and says, “I'm not going anywhere Luci, I promise!”

“Okay, we can go then,” Lucifer says, calming immediately and standing up.

**  
They make it back to the Devil's Gate with less than an hour to spare, and they weren't attacked, discovered, or followed. Lucifer, they find along the way, was very much like someone who had suffered a severe mental breakdown and was still in shock; he was also very much like a child. When they gather in the clearing at the end of the path and await Beth opening the door, Olle turns to Lucifer and asks, “Do you remember what we talked about before we left the room?” Lucifer nods. “Good,” Olle says, “are you ready to let me be your vessel?”

Lucifer hesitates for a moment before asking, “It won't hurt you, will it?”

“Hang on a minute bro,” Gabriel says turning to Olle and leading him back down the path a ways to speak to him privately. “Olle, you know as well as I do, he'll be less aware than the voice in the back of your mind once he is in there; will he be okay?”

“He'll be find Gabe,” Olle says reaching out reassuringly to take Gabriel's shoulder. “I want to comb through his psyche, get a bead on his mental state, so I'll give him as much freedom and awareness as if he were still standing right beside me.” Gabriel looks frightened for a second, remembering what Olle said he would do if his brother was beyond saving. “Don't worry,” Olle said seriously, giving the angel's shoulder a squeeze, “he's doing remarkably well and I'm sure he can come back from this. I just want to dig around and get an idea of how long he may be on medical leave. Baring some expertly propagated falsehood on his part, he's going to come out of this with a brand new vessel and be none the worse for wear; I swear.” Gabriel nods and they venture back over to where Lucifer is still waiting.

“Okay, are you ready?” Olle asks. The angel nods before swelling with Grace and enveloping Olle.

Once the light fades Gabriel looks at him and asks, “Olle? Luci?”

“We're fine Gabe,” Olle says with a reassuring smile. “He's right here with us and we're fine; he's fine.”

Just then, the Devil's Gate opens and Lucifer says, “Gabe,” like he's frightened and reaches out to take his brother's hand as they all go back through the doorway.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**

Beth shoves the sword back into the wall and turns to look at the three angels with a sigh of relief. “I'm glad you're all okay,” she says with a smile.

Lucifer lets go of Gabriel's hand and Olle says, “Beth, do we want to do this here?”

She shakes her head, “I don't want to dig a grave here, let's go.”

“I agree,” Gabriel says. “I want to take this,” he grabs the hilt of his sword, “and seal this tunnel permanently.” Gabriel pulls his sword free before tucking it away wherever he keeps his other blade and everyone starts back through the tunnel. Once they reach the entrance, and find themselves chest deep in water, Gabriel slices his hand and draws a Norse rune on the rock, lacing the blood with Grace before it vanishes.

With a snap all five of them are dry and back in the parking lot of the Cracker Barrel in Park City.

“Where do you want to do this?” Gabriel asks.

Beth takes the keys from Olle and slides in the driver's seat. “Everyone get in,” she says starting the engine. “It's a long drive to Detroit.”

“That's fifteen hours if we don't stop for anything but gas,” Gabriel says. “Just let me snap us there; where, exactly, do you want to go?”

“You look like shit Gabe,” Beth says with a smile. “No offense but you look like you need those fifteen hours to sleep. He,” she gestures to Lucifer, “can do it.”

She reaches over and takes his hand where Olle sat them in the front passenger seat, “Think you can do that Luce?” Only when she says his name is sounds like 'Loose' and he smiles, shyly, nodding. “Good job, just reach out and see where I want to go, then bring the whole car and everything that's in it with you.”

No snap, no rustle of wings, no flash of light, just a change of scenery so smooth it could have been all of them blinking at the exact same moment. “Is this it?” Lucifer asks hesitant.

Beth squeezes his hand and grins, “Perfect! Now, Olle needs to go talk to Linda and we all need to stay here; can you let him do that?”

Gabriel watches her talk to his brother like he has a choice in everything he does, just like Olle did in Hell, and he so appreciates what this ancient, even by his standards, creature is doing for his brother that he misses Lucifer's response and looks up startled when Beth says his name. “Huh?” he asks confused.

She smiles and laughs quietly, “Luce's nervous; can you go all invisible girl and go with them?”

“He, you,” he says looking at his brother across the seat, “won't be able to see me.”

“Yes he will,” Olle answers, “because,” he gestures at Beth, “ we can.”

Gabriel nods and appears outside his brother's door ready to go. Lucifer steps out of the car clinging to Beth's hand until the last possible seconds then Olle shuts the door and walks up the front steps to ring the doorbell.

When Linda Tran answers the door she looks haggard, there is the sound of something breaking through the house, and behind her all the lights are flickering then Kevin's voice echos angrily through the house asking, “Who is it?” before he appears behind his mother fritzing.

Linda looks relieved when she sees Olle and gestures for him to come inside but he remembers the angel proofing and says, “Can you come with me for a minute Linda, I need you to help me carry something inside for Kevin.” He looks at Kevin and says, “We'll be right back mate,” before taking her by the arm where it was barely sticking over the threshold, and leading her down the walk.

The first time he met Linda she had been wearing the ring Kevin's soul was bound to and he'd quickly put a stop to that so he knew they were alone. Halfway down the walk he asks her, “I was here less than a month ago, what happened?”

Linda sighs and says, “I don't know really. I tried calling Sam and Dean but they aren't picking up. You were next on my list but it only started this morning.” They walk down to the car and Olle puts on a show by opening the trunk while Linda goes on, “He's angry and fritzing and breaking things. He says he felt some sort of power surge at about six this morning but I have no idea what he's talking about.”

“Fuck,” he says pulling Holy Oil out of the trunk before he closed the lid and walked around to the driver's window and knocked. “I need you to go inside,” he says to Beth when she rolls down the window, “and put on the ring. Kevin is fritzing and Linda says he felt this surge of power at about six this morning.”

“Fuck,” Beth says getting out of the car.

Olle shakes his head in agreement but he flounders as he starts back toward Linda. He is trying to ignore Lucifer, keep him sentient, soothe his broken mental state, and feed him information so the barrage of questions in his head will stop, all while maintaining his own conversations and thought processes; it is beginning to overwhelm him. Beth catches him and Gabriel appears at his side catching the Holy Oil before it breaks on the pavement.

Linda gasps and reaches out to Olle saying, “Are you okay? Who is he?”

“I'm Gabriel,” he says sitting the Holy Oil on the roof of the Jag to stretch his hand out to Linda.

“Balthazar darling,” he says popping out of the passenger side of the back seat with a smile.

“They're here to help,” Beth says, not looking up from where she has leaned the dual occupied body against the hood. “Are you two okay?”

Olle grins and Lucifer shakes their head answering, “Olle's okay. I'm asking too many questions,” his voice is soft, both guilty and ashamed, “I should have stayed in Hell,” he turns away from Beth's hand gently cupping his cheek. “I'm sorry.”

She uses her other hand to cup his face where he turned away and guide him back to her, “We sometimes take too much on. This isn't your fault.” She is gentle with him and Olle echos the sentiment in his mind with the same feather lite touch as well as offering up apologies for making him think it was his fault.

Lucifer nods and Olle says, “I'm fine. Can you go with Linda and see if you can calm Kevin down. The sigils, they'll need to be modified to let the rest of us in the house.” Beth nods and Olle turns to Linda, “I know you barely know us, and you don't know any of them, and you don't trust angels; but I need you to bare with me Linda, for just a little while. I need you to trust me.”

“One of the first things Kevin made me do when we returned home was read those ridiculous books and I know if you're back,” Linda gestures at Gabriel, “then, with whatever Kevin felt this morning, it must be important.” She turns toward the house and Beth follows.

In about ten minutes Beth sticks her head out the front door and says, “Come on then the four of you.”

The first thing Olle sees is Kevin, no longer fritzing, standing behind Beth. Once she shuts the door behind them Kevin says, “What the hell is going on? What was that this morning? Who are they?”

“They're angels,” Olle says clapping Kevin on the back as he walks past him knowing the kid misses being touched; knowing he and Beth are the only ones who can touch him. “What the hell is going on and what happened this morning, we all need to talk about. But first,” he says dropping into a kitchen chair while everyone follows suit, “I need to know what you felt this morning Kevin.”

The kid slumps in a chair across from Olle and says, “I was just off, like in the void, and I felt this presence just move through me; through everything. It was chaotic and crazy, but deep and almost calm.” He thinks for a minute before going on, “It was almost like what I felt whenever I was following Dean around in the bunker after he got the Mark of Cain, but it was bigger, more. I don't know how to describe it.”

Olle nods and he, Beth, Lucifer, and Gabriel respond in unison, “That's pretty accurate.”

“What was it?” Linda asks.

“In Biblical terms,” Beth says, “we call it The Darkness. In the beginning blah, blah then let there be light, which wasn't the Sun like most Christians believe, which drove out the darkness.” Beth sighs, “The Mark of Cain was a curse that held the Darkness at bay, the first curse, and, despite Olle's best efforts, Sam was successful in removing the Mark from Dean, thus freeing the Darkness.”

“Balthazar and I,” Gabriel says, “were dead, very dead, until that happened, this morning, and we are playing catch up.”

“So, what,” Linda asks, “you're going to stop this Darkness? What is it really?”

“Old,” Olle says, Lucifer says; Beth can't tell who is speaking because they seem very intertwined in their thinking about this. “Very, very old and cruel and selfish and something we don't want roaming around unthinking because their way of thinking is in such contrast to anything we've ever known.”

Linda huffs leaning back in her chair and Kevin says, “What are you all doing here? Where are Sam and Dean?” The fact that Beth is wearing the ring his soul is bound to means he is almost fully corporeal and, like Olle's ability to exist with Lucifer, Beth can temper his emotions and prevent any ghostly outbursts; which is good because he is not happy about all the angels around right now.

Gabriel answers before anyone else, “You're a prophet kid, how'd you end up dead?”

Beth groans internally, feeling anger vibrate through Kevin as he answers, “Gadreel was working for Metatron; he needed to make sure I wasn't around to help Sam and Dean stop him from using the angel tablet.”

“Damn kid,” Gabriel whistles, “that sucks! How much of it was Sam and Dean's fault?” Kevin shrugs and Beth has to clench her fist on the hand where she is wearing the ring because of his frustration and anger and, oddly, loyalty to Sam and Dean. “That's right, they mean well but they don't always get it right on the first try. They are the ones who released the Darkness. We're here, alone, because we need time, we need a plan, so that, when we catch up with them, it doesn't make things worse instead of better.”

Gabriel comes over and takes the ring away from Beth, he cups her face with a smile and says, “I'm gonna hang onto this for a while and see if I can straighten him out.” When Gabriel slips the ring on his right hand Kevin fritzes and the whole house shakes but only for a few seconds before Gabriel says firmly, “No more earthquakes Kevin or shattered glass or holding your mother hostage here because you don't want to be alone.” Kevin glares at the angel but that Trickster smile spreads across his face and he laughs before saying, “Put on your big boy pants kid and learn to control yourself. Forget you're dead and remember what was like to be alive.”

He picks up an apple off the counter and throws it at him; Kevin catches it with a shocked look. “I can feel that!” Kevin says in awe. “How'd you do that?”

“Angels draw their power from archangels but we get it straight from Creation; that's what makes us so deadly, so dangerous, and our power is virtually unlimited. I can't bring you back, that much power would draw too much attention right now, but you'll be almost fully seated on this plane as long as I wear the ring.”

Kevin nods and puts the apple down before asking, “What can't I do?”

“There are some things: eating and sleeping are out still. Sex, I wouldn't recommend because your ability to do anything, but be dead, depends directly on your proximity to me; you can try it though,” the angel waggles his eyebrows, “if you don't mind me watching.” Gabriel grins and says, “I don't know exactly how, but apparently you can blush.”

Linda is crying and wraps her son in her arms for the first time in years. Kevin can't cry or he would be but he picks his mother up and spins her around the room before sitting her down. “Thank you!” Linda says reaching out and taking Gabriel's hand, still not letting go of Kevin.

Gabriel says nothing, suddenly uncomfortable, so Olle interrupts, “Linda, we need to dig a hole in your back garden; about seven by four and three or so feet deep. We're going to build a fire and we'll clean it all up like it never happened when we're done. Is that okay?”

“You're not going to bury something or kill something or summon something are you?” she asks.

“Actually,” Olle says with a grin, “we're going to do all three. But it's harmless, and by tomorrow morning it should be back to normal, and it's as safe as houses. I wouldn't have come here to do it if it put you at any risk.”

Mrs. Tran shakes her head and says, “Alright, I guess.”

“Balthazar,” Olle says pointing out the back door, “I need to fit in this hole with a little room for thrashing around.” The honey blond angel pouts but gets up and goes outside.

Beth goes to the refrigerator, opens the door and, pulling out several things, says, “Mrs. Tran, the angels don't need to eat but Balthazar and Gabriel enjoy it, could I make us all some lunch? I'll go shopping later and I'll make dinner as well.”

“Make yourself at home I suppose,” she says before turning to Olle. “What is this hole that you need to fit in with room for thrashing?”

Olle smiles at the woman as she sits down across from him, dragging Kevin with her still holding his hand; he doesn't seem to mind. He gestures for Gabriel to sit before answering. “Telling you both everything puts you in danger; especially now that the Darkness is free. What has your time dealing with all things Supernatural taught you about magick, witchcraft, and curses?”

“Witches are magic users,” Kevin answers. “They can get their powers from demons, or be born with innate power, or simply study and practice with no given or granted power,” Kevin says. “Natural witches are the strongest, then demon worshiping witches, then practitioners.” Olle shakes his head and Kevin continues, “There are five main categories of curses: those affecting the mind, the body, or the soul of something, those affecting inanimate objects, and those that can be any combination of the other four.”

“Good job Kevin, you remember what you learned from the demon tablet and the Men of Letters,” Olle says. “I was, once, human but I'm not anymore, not really. I was cursed by a natural witch and the curse touches all three aspects of my existence; mind, body, and soul. Beth was cursed in the same way by the same witch. We are both a bit more than and a little bit less than human and our mind, body, and soul are bound together in a type of immortality. I'm not certain the Darkness could actually hurt either of us but it or God would be the only two things I'd put any money on doing us any damage.”

“You're cursed,” Linda says matter of factly, “that doesn't explain the hole in my yard.”

“We spent the morning trekking through Hell to retrieve an archangel from the Cage to help defeat the Darkness and we're going to do a ritual to give him a vessel that isn't a Winchester,” Gabriel says bluntly.

“Oh,” she says, a little shocked, “okay.”

Balthazar comes back in just then and, slumping down in a chair, says, “I believe you'll fit. What's next?”

“Next,” Gabriel says standing and picking up the Holy Oil, “you all stay in here while Olle and I take care of this.”

Once outside, alone, Gabriel turns to Olle and says, “How long has Lucifer been locked away?”

“He is now but he hasn't been. I've been shielding him from certain bits of the conversation, but not shutting him down.” Olle starts stripping his clothes off and says, “We need to explain the process to him. Did it hurt when I put you through it?”

Gabriel shakes his head kneeling by the grave, “No, not at all. I'm worried about airflow,” he says thoughtfully.

“Sink it down a few more feet and build a pyre inside the grave, with enough oil and wood it will burn no matter what. When that's done we'll talk to Lucifer.” Olle sits, now naked, on the grass by the grave while Gabriel snaps his fingers and is set up. The angel opens the Holy Oil and liberally douses the pyre then snaps Olle into linen pants and long sleeves that can be doused in oil after he climbs into the grave. “Go ahead,” Olle says.

“Luci,” Gabriel says sitting down in the grass beside his brother, “we're ready to start the ritual. But before we do, I need to explain what's gonna happen.”

He's just as gentle with him as he had been in Hell and the archangel reaches out to take his brother's hands before answering, “Okay Gabe, what do I need to do?”

“Olle's special, do you remember when Cain cut his head off with the First Blade and he rose right back up out of the ground like he was made of it?” Gabriel asks Lucifer.

“Yeah, why?”

“Well, when I refused to return to Heaven after the war, Michael sent the Gregori to hunt me and I needed to hide. Olle let me use his body as a vessel and, by accident, we realized that what we're about to do with you could work.” Gabriel takes a deep breath and goes on calmly, “The Gregori found me and, although they weren't strong enough to drag me back to Heaven, Michael ordered them to kill me. They drove a blade through my chest and cremated me with Holy Fire.”

Lucifer gasps and says, “Why would Michael do such a thing? How are you still alive?”

“When Olle returned to this world he brought me with him and gave me a vessel, a perfect vessel; he's going to do the same thing for you. Michael wanted me dead because he made all the other angels forget what really happened and he was afraid I could make them remember.”

“How many times has Michael killed you?” Lucifer asks sadly. “Were they all because of me?”

“No,” his brother says passionately, squeezing his hand, “it was never because of you! It only ever happened that once. About 7,000 years ago, though, Olle came to me to ask a favor and, when it was all said and done, I needed to hide again. We repeated the process and he gave me this vessel. It doesn't hurt, not at all, and it only takes a few hours.”

“Oh, okay, if it doesn't hurt us. I'll be okay with that. What's it feel like?” Lucifer sounds like a child who just agreed to get a flu shot.

Gabriel hates lying to his brother and knows, knows, a part of Lucifer will know and never forgive him, but he makes himself laugh and says, “Olle says it's just like falling asleep. I felt like I was stuck in that space between anything, when we're traveling through space and time here on Earth, but it didn't last long and then I was totally back, looking just like this.”

“Awesome, we get started then,” Lucifer says standing up.

“Okay,” Gabriel says standing.

“He's out,” Olle says. Gabriel nods and pulls his archangel blade out of the air and picks up the Holy Oil while Olle jumps down onto the pyre.

Gabriel soaks Olle's clothes then the big man lays down and Gabriel jumps down to stand over him, sword in hand. “You're gonna make an awful lot of noise when the fire starts. Do you want me to cut your head off?” He feels sick to his stomach asking, but the man laughs and shakes his head. “Why not?” the angel wants to know.

“It'll take me days to pull myself together if I'm that ripped apart. There's not enough magick in the Earth anymore. If you hit me in the center of the chest, then the throat, my larynx and trachea will be too messed up to scream. Just make sure you cover me up after the fire burns out; the Earth speeds up the process.”

Gabriel hesitates remembering how awful it was to see, and hear, what happened to Olle in Hell and knowing he is going to feel every bit of what's about to happen to him. He takes a deep breath he doesn't need, to calm his nerves, then drives his sword into Olle's chest all the way through, severing his spinal cord, before pulling out and going into his throat at an angle so he didn't cut the man's head off accidentally. He only jerked once but Gabriel hears him gurgle and try to suck in air while he bleeds. With a thought the angel is standing above Olle; he pours Holy Oil over the wounds and the blood and his exposed skin before snapping his fingers, igniting the pyre and the man. He doesn't want to be there, but he can't bring himself to look away, to go back inside.

Eventually, he looses track of time and jerks when an arm touches him. He cringes away when he realizes it is Beth. “I'm sorry,” he says reaching back out to take her in his arms; he's crying. “I'm sorry for every time you did it and for that last time when I could have done anything else to keep you from feeling this much pain, and for now when I just expected you to do it like you owed me something! I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry!” He continues to cling to her and cry and mumble apologies.

“It's okay,” she says over and over brushing kisses over his face and neck in a soothing manner while she runs her hands through his hair and rubs his back. The fire dies to a few glowing embers and he eventually stops crying. He clings to her, though, taking deep breaths while she holds him like a mother and it is a deeply calming feeling he is totally unfamiliar with because any kind of parental reassurance or affection is something he barely remembers. “You've been out here for hours,” she says finally. “You missed lunch and shopping and dinner. I made cupcakes.”

Her attempts to appeal to his sweet tooth succeed and he says, “Chocolate?”

“Dark chocolate with dark chocolate icing and homemade hot chocolate,” she says rubbing slow circle into his back.

“Milk would be better,” he say then snaps to fill in the grave before letting her lead him inside.

She nods her head with a laugh. “We don't have to come back out here until sunrise,” Beth says stopping at the door. The angel nods and lets her lead him inside.


	4. Chapter 4

Everyone sleeps that night but Kevin, who sits and watches his mother sleep; wishing he'd never gotten her involved in any of this, and vowing to keep her safe now that she was. 

When Sam prays, Balthazar and Gabriel both jerk to attention from where they were trying to sleep; too much time living among humanity made them embrace routine. Balthazar looks at his brother and says, “What are we supposed to do?”

Gabriel aches to go to him right then but knows, somehow, that it would be a mistake. “We are, I think, the answer to his prayer, but we just gotta wait a little while longer before we tell him. Go back to sleep.” 

The archangel gets up to pace and, finally, do a little praying of his own. Alone in the kitchen he falls to his knees, folds his hands, bows his head, wraps his Grace around himself, and calls out to his father. “Dad, this seems like a really crap idea; sending me, Luci, and Baz after her. I've only ever been a messenger and a coward Dad, and Lucifer is broken and I'm sorry about Michael, I am, but at least that is one less thing to deal with. Why did it have to be this way?” 

The angel is crying but he keeps going, “What am I supposed to do Dad, huh? What am I supposed to do?” He doesn't expect an answer and it hasn't made him feel any better so he stops crying and goes back to the armchair he was sleeping in. 

A few minutes before sunrise, Gabriel goes outside to find Beth laying on the covered over grave shivering and asleep. His heart clenches in his chest and he makes his way over to her. Squatting down by her head, he rubs her back up and down letting his Grace warm her and wake her before saying, “How long have you been out here?”

She wiggles into the angel's touch and yawns before sitting up to stretch. “I just,” she isn't sure how to finish, “I'm not a whole person like he is and we've never been apart before.”

Gabriel flops down on his butt, crossing his legs, before saying, “What do you mean?”

She leans into the angel for warmth, and so she doesn't have to look at him, “Remembering everything, everything from before the beginning, hurts. Not like Holy Fire or a blade but like,” she had read the Supernatural books and she knows what came after, “like Sam hurt those six months you had Dean's soul or while Dean was in Hell or when Sam watched him die in his arms then carried him back to the bunker after Metatron killed him.” 

She's not crying, she's not, but she takes a deep breath anyway and goes on, “Like Dean hurt when Sam died in his arms or when he said 'yes' to Lucifer or when he fell into the Cage or when he didn't have a soul or when he was dying from having his soul back or dying from the Black Trials. But it's more than that. It's every good memory from then as well. It's knowing there are people out there who love and hate me in equal measure and all I want to do is be with them but I can't. A thousand times, I'd do everything Sam and Dean have ever done, just to protect them; even from myself.” 

She is, she has to admit now, crying, but she keeps going, “You can't forget anything, ever, right?” Gabriel nods. “It's part of the curse, we can't either, so I'm not a whole person because I'm just here to let Olle forget.”

“What he doesn't want to know, you remember,” Gabriel says and she nods wiping her face with the sleeve of her hoodie. 

She gets up and starts for the back door, “I need coffee. Your brother should be here any second now,” she says and, as if by magick, Lucifer appears in the space she just vacated. Gabriel snaps his brother into a pair of jeans, boots, a white t-shirt and a black Henley before guiding him over to sit in a chair on the patio closer to the door. 

“Don't dig him up when the ground starts to move or you'll have to heal him,” Beth says before picking up Olle's clothes and going inside. 

A half hour later, Olle has drug himself up through the ground to lay, panting, on the grass; covered in ash and blood and dirt but he looks perfectly healthy. Beth appears with a beach towel from the trunk to wipe the worst of it off and drops a pair of flip-flops at his feet before pointing to the house and saying, “Shower.” He grins and laughs before kissing her, quick and sweet, on the mouth, then going inside. She smiles and shakes her head before following him.

“That was weird, huh?” Gabriel says to his brother, who hasn't said a word since he appeared by Gabriel's side almost an hour ago.

Lucifer doesn't speak for almost another hour, then, quietly, very quiet, and hesitant, the Devil says, “Did you hear Sam Winchester's prayer?”

Gabriel is glad his brother is saying anything so he goes along, “I did, so did Balthazar. Not sure what, exactly, to do about it though. Do you have any ideas?” He feels like he needs to be reading books on how to talk to freed hostages and breakthroughs in communication for hostages and trauma survivors. Lucifer has always been far too intelligent for his own good, cunning and observant, but now he is withdrawn and very, very frightened of himself and his surroundings; and he and his Dad are the only ones who know what's going on in that head of his.

Olle comes back outside clean, dressed, and carrying coffee, but Lucifer still hasn't answered. “How's he doin' Gabe?” Olle asks dropping down into the wide teak chair and sitting his coffee on the round table in front of him. Gabriel shakes his head and doesn't say anything, snapping up a venti peppermint hot chocolate that is way out of season; as he takes his first long drink, Olle speaks again, “I kept pretty close tabs on the boys after the apocalypse and, thanks to Balthazar, I have a pretty interesting perspective from which to give you information.”

Gabriel looks away from his brother to Olle, at that, and asks, “What do you mean?”

Olle laughs and prays aloud, “Oh holy angel Balthazar come outside please so I may ask you to explain The French Mistake to your archangel brothers.” 

Balthazar appears, coffee in hand, in the chair beside Olle. “The song from Blazing Saddles?” he asks.

“Don't be cheeky Baz or I'll spend the rest of eternity forgetting Roche is french and I'll call you Roach.” Olle laughs when Balthazar sticks his tongue out at him.

“Fine,” he says turning his cup up before sitting it down to begin. “Not long before Cas killed me, I caught wind of Raphael's plot to capture Sam and Dean; so he would have them on hand when he managed to open the Cage again. So, I took it upon myself to hide them. When I found the spell, I didn't realize it was as dangerous as it turned out to be and I didn't even do it properly so it turned out to be a disaster. But,” he says leaning back in his seat, “everything turned out okay in the end. Sam and Dean came home, no one in the alternate universe actually died, because I'm rubbish at magick, and Raphael never managed to reboot the apocalypse.”

“Alternate Universe?” Gabriel asks.

“I'm not even sure it's entirely real but I'm definitely there,” Olle says with a smirk.

“Of course you're there,” Gabriel says exasperated, “you're everywhere! What does this mean?”

Olle explains about Jared and Jensen and Misha, and how Balthazar pushed Sam and Dean only far enough into that place that they were forced to live the episode of the show and not the real lives of Jared and Jensen. Then, with a lot of concentrated blocking of his own life, the 'real' lives of the 'actors,' and everything about Chuck, he allows the angels to read his mind; feeding them every scrap of information he has on Sam and Dean from watching ten seasons of the television show. 

Lucifer has a minor meltdown when he sees everything that happened to Sam after his return from Hell, but Gabriel takes his hand, and they keep going until the moment Baby is engulfed by the Darkness. 

“That Rowena, what a cunt,” Balthazar says.

“That bitch and I have unfinished business,” Olle and Beth say in unison before Beth goes on, “I just came out to let you know I made breakfast.” 

“Was I always that much of a monster?” Lucifer asks bewildered.

Gabriel has no idea what to say to his brother so he is thankful when Balthazar, of all of them, speaks first, “You weren't. Even during the wars you weren't. It took eons for the Mark to drive you mad so it would be surprising if you were suddenly completely okay again in less than a day.” He drains his coffee as he speaks then gets up and walks back inside.

“He is right,” Gabriel says quickly. “You were possessed of what you thought was a righteous purpose when you declared war on Michael. The longer the war went on, the madder you became, and that was when you extended your cause to humanity. You spent so long locked away in the Cage, before Sam and Dean came along, and I'm sure that isolation helped sink you further into insanity. That,” Gabriel says with a lump in his throat, “was very much my fault.”

“You saved me from myself little brother, the way no one else could have!” Lucifer makes full eye contact with Gabriel and speaks in a sure voice when he says it and everyone hopes that means he will get better. 

Olle claps Lucifer and Gabriel on the shoulder before turning to the door, “None of you need to eat but I'm starving.”

**

Introductions, Gabriel thinks, went better than expected. Lucifer was all awkward, shy, politeness and Linda and Kevin were startled but, once he explained about the Mark, they were accepting; if still a little wary. The rest of breakfast was entertaining since he managed to get Lucifer to try eating and drinking for the first time; he is even pretty sure he can get him to do it again. He is hoping some exposure to humanity, and some sort of routine, will help. Which means, after Linda leaves for work, while Beth cleans the kitchen, he looks at everyone still sitting around the table and says, “We need a plan for what happens next.” Lucifer seems to make himself look even smaller and more uncertain, if that is possible, while Balthazar looks ready to listen but not offer any advice. 

Olle returns to the table from making more coffee, his fifth cup, and says, “What do you have in mind Gabriel? You wouldn't have brought it up if you didn't already have a plan.”

“I need one of you,” the trickster angel gestures to Olle and Beth, “to get close enough to Sam and Dean to find out what's going on. I need somewhere to lay low, somewhere Luci can heal, but I need to be in on what's happening out there too.” Gabriel snaps himself up another peppermint hot chocolate and, after a long drink, goes on, “I need you to get close enough to them that, once we're ready, they trust you enough to trust us when you tell them what's going on.” Gabriel takes another long drink then snaps up four shots of espresso to dump into his cup.

Beth sits down and takes Gabriel's drink, forcing him to snap himself up another. When she joins the conversation she speaks directly to Olle, “They'll never trust a woman, hunter or not, and you're already an established force in the hunting community here and in Europe. You can go back to work and we can find a way to force them into accidentally crossing your path.” She looks over to where Kevin has been sitting all morning, “You're a pretty skilled hacker aren't you Kevin?”

The kid jerks his head up and shakes it, “Yeah, I was, why?”

Beth smiles, “You're gonna teach me, a lot, and we're gonna call in some favors and use just a little bit of magick and I'm going to bring our boys back to life.” She looks at Gabriel, “Grab the kid, we're going to buy some gear.”

Olle laughs at how Beth just takes the two of them and disappears. He isn't even sure Beth isn't the one doing the snapping; though he has never tried it, he doesn't think they can actually travel like angels, so Gabriel must have read her mind. Balthazar slips out of the kitchen mumbling something about catching up on Days of Our Lives while Lucifer hasn't moved from his spot by Gabriel's now vacant seat. 

“Hey,” Olle says quietly, “you got anything in mind you'd like to talk about?”

Lucifer looks over at him from downcast eyes and shrugs, “When's Gabe gonna be back?”

“I don't know Luce,” Olle says emptying his coffee cup. “But I wanna talk to you, is that okay?”

“I tried to help Sam, but I think I may have made it worse. He prayed,” Lucifer looks up at Olle then, “last night. He's hurt and he's sad and so, so lost and he was asking God not to save him but to save Dean, to save everyone; even if it meant he had to die.” He is quiet, he sounds in awe of the younger Winchester. “What he did, throwing himself in the Cage, over powering me to do it; he has a will of iron and, in spite of everything I ever did to him, he still has faith. How am I ever supposed to make it up to him? What can I possibly do to help him win this war? I feel,” he wiggles around, uncomfortable, stands up, and starts pacing, “I have never felt before, not like this.”

“You've always had a human soul in there with you. It helps you when they can put a name to what your feeling and you could attribute it to the soul still trapped in there.” Olle reaches out and puts his hand on Lucifer's wrist as he passes close to the table and the angel stops, looking down at the contact. “It's up to you, now, to figure out what you're feeling and to acknowledge not only that you're feeling it but that your ability to feel these things is a good thing.”

“Angels weren't built to have emotions. We were supposed to feel devotion to God and protective of humanity. We were supposed to feel righteous anger against enemies of God. We weren't supposed to want things or hurt. We were never taught to understand real love or hate or envy or want.” Lucifer sits down and looks Olle in the eye, “I don't know if I can learn these things. I don't know if I want to learn these things!”

“Want!” Olle leans forward into the angel's space. “That word is pivotal to understanding humanity! What does any living thing need to survive? Beyond these needs are wants and humanity are not the only creations with wants. Wanting opens you up to emotions, good ones and bad ones, and getting what we want doesn't always give us what we want.”

“I don't understand!”

“Exactly! Admitting that is the first step. I've lived a human existence as long as there have been humans; none of us ever really understand what we really want. The easiest way to get what you need and have it coincide with what you want is to help others do the same thing. But we don't do that because we don't understand how helping others get what they need will help us find what we want because we are all so used to fighting to make sure we have what we need!”

Lucifer looks like he is trying to understand, but he also looks overwhelmed. “You want all the things you need but you also want other things as well and those other things are pivotal to your satisfaction with the things you need?”

“Yes!” Olle sits back satisfied he taught the angel something. “It makes no logical sense, and I know angels are all logic, but if you accept that right there, what you just said, then understanding humanity will be a lot easier.”

“Why?” he asks curious.

“Every other thing in Creation, that has never been humanoid, knows God, Heaven, Hell, Purgatory, Creation itself, is real. Dogs, cats, sharks, trees, the Earth all know God did this, made them, and they know He is satisfied with them. People, though, we were made specifically lacking. We were given choice and that took away our assurance, not only of God's satisfaction, but of His very existence.” Olle sits back and lets that sink in for a moment before continuing, “If I can choose to eat an apple instead of a pear because I like apples more, even though both will equally satisfy my need for food, then I can choose everything that happens to me. If I choose what happens to me then I can choose to decide what happens to things, and other people who are weaker than me. If I can bend the will of others then I am God-like and if I am God-like then I am God. If I am God then any God that has ever been was only a man; therefore, whichever man possesses the strongest will and the means to bend the will of others must be a good man, a righteous man, because that man must be God.” Olle shakes his head and goes to get them both more coffee, “Giving us free-will, God knowingly negated his own existence and then tried to give us faith to cover it up. He expects us to use what we can see to make us feel righteous but then accept something He'll never show us because He lets us decide on apples or pears.”

“You don't have very much faith in God,” Lucifer says miming Olle as he turns his mug up.

“I know God exists, that's not faith.” Olle sits his cup down and sighs, “Before I was cursed, I wasn't sure I believed in God. I was born into a family of faithful, Protestant, southern, white people who were always so dirt poor they needed to believe in God so they could blame you when something bad happened.” Olle laughs at that. “I couldn't understand free-will. That took me a very, very long time; even after I was cursed. But, free-will was what always had me doubting what I was told to believe. If God was omniscient and omnipresent then free-will must be an illusion because He knows everything that is ever going to happen and has known since the moment of Creation. That means He knows if I'm going to Heaven or Hell before I'm even born, so nothing I ever do matters one way or the other. If that is true then why does God exist? It always made more sense to me that He was a human invention used to oppress, segregate, and enslave those deemed different, weak, or somehow less than.”

“And now?” Lucifer asks emptying his coffee cup. “You know God exists but do you believe in free-will?”

“I believe any being possessed of the ability to want, must possess free-will, angels,” Olle tilts his head at Lucifer, “included. You just have to learn how to use it.”

“I suppose I've been exercising free-will longer than just about anyone,” Lucifer says thoughtfully. “I never thought, however, that I should use it to get anything but what I felt was needed.”

“Those weren't needs Luce, they were wants. You wanted your Father's love, your brothers' respect, confirmation of your own superiority over Humanity.” Olle goes over to the counter, where Beth left the tablet after looking up chocolate cake recipes last night. He pulls up Amazon and proceeds to buy all the Supernatural books plus a few psychology textbooks, books by the Dali Lama, a Kindle, and a slew of children's books. “I'm having some things shipped here, they should get here tomorrow, and Beth is going to help you get everything set up then you're going to spend some time getting to know yourself and figuring out how you want to proceed. We can't do it for you Lucifer, you have to find your own way to be comfortable with who you were, what you've done, and where you want to go from here.”

He looks uncomfortable, frightened, and lost. “I want, I want Gabriel,” he says sadly. 

Olle can tell he may have pushed too hard too soon and the angel may be about to have a full blown panic attack. Olle does not want to find out what one of those looks like for an archangel so he prays, silently, “Gabriel, please, please hear me! Leave Beth wherever she is and get back here ASAP!” 

Gabriel appears less than five seconds later right beside Lucifer. “What,” he says angrily, glaring at Olle, “did you do to him?” He turns his brother's chair out from the table and squats between his knees to take his hands where they are folded in his lap, “Hey big brother, you okay?”

Lucifer nods his head and says, “Too much, just, just too much.”

“Okay,” Gabriel says standing, pulling Lucifer to his feet, “we're gonna go try sleeping. It's just about the easiest human thing to learn, next to eating chocolate.” Gabriel turns to Olle quickly and says, “I left her in Stockholm at INET in Haymarket, she isn't finished, take the ring, take Kevin, take Balthazar.” 

Olle takes the ring and follows them through the house. When Gabriel heads upstairs with Lucifer, Olle stays in the living room and says to Balthazar, “We gotta go get Beth and, apparently, finish shopping. I'm sure she has no idea what she's doing because we don't know much of anything about computers. Let's go.” Balthazar sighs but as he is standing everything changes and they are all standing in the shop with Beth. 

“Oh, good, you're back,” she says to Kevin, taking the ring from Olle.


	5. Chapter 5

By mid-afternoon, they are all back at the house and, since they ate in Rome, Beth and Kevin begin turning the dining room table into a computer hub Lisbeth would be proud of. Gabriel and Lucifer are still upstairs, Olle hears soft voices coming from the guest bedroom and decides to leave them alone. Balthazar drops back into his spot on the couch and picks up the remote. Olle goes back into the kitchen and sits down at the table, he hears Beth in the dining room asking questions and Kevin answering each one patiently. He reaches for his phone and picks up the tablet to start planning how in the hell he is going to wiggle his way into the Winchester's lives.

** 

When Linda gets home, Olle has made dinner and has all necessary plans to leave in the morning. The first thing he does, when she comes in and comments on the smell, is ask, “Linda, I know we've overstayed our welcome, but I was hoping I could let them all trespass on your hospitality for a while?”

“You really didn't have anywhere else to go, I know that, because I can't imagine you knew us well enough, or trusted me enough, to come here if you weren't desperate.” She comes over and tastes the sauce Olle is making for the spaghetti and hums her delight before going on, “Who will be staying and can you ballpark how long?”

“There were selfish reasons for my coming Linda,” Olle says spreading garlic butter on fresh baguette they bought in Paris. “It is more than entirely possible we will need Kevin before this whole thing is over. Now,” he says hurriedly at the look on her face, “I have no intention of ever taking him away from you. Where he goes you go. And I don't want to make you, or him, any promises, which is why I haven't said anything, but it is possible that, when this is all over, he could have a chance to be brought back.”

“What?” she asks excited and apprehensive.

“He is a prophet, the last prophet, the only prophet who can read the tablets. That, and the nature of his death, mean it might be possible. I can't, won't, promise you something I'm not certain could happen; we could all succumb to the Darkness and Creation could be unmade. But if it is within my power to do at some point, I will give your son back to you. And I don't want you to think you have to let us stay here because that isn't a condition for Kevin's resurrection.”

“If I make you leave, Gabriel isn't here to wear the ring. If Gabriel isn't here to wear the ring, Kevin goes back to being completely within the void. I was losing my son this time last week and the last twenty-four hours has seen me able to touch him again. They can all stay as long as you need them to.”

Olle has always been impressed with Linda Tran and this occasion is no different. “I'll be the only one leaving. I have to go talk to Sam and Dean; I have to get them ready to face not just the Darkness but the realization that all these dead angels are back and the Devil is a good guy now. It could take months.” She merely nods.

When everyone ventures into the kitchen to eat, Olle sets the table and, once everyone has a plate, begins to outline his plan. “I'm leaving tomorrow. I've ordered a truck, perfect for hunting, and it's supposed to be delivered to the dealer in Kansas City next week. I've contacted the hospital and told them I want to come back to work, that I have some pro-Bono work I want to do with some military veterans. Which I do, so that's a plus. I'm stopping in Chicago, I have a meeting with Gideon and the families. Apparently they have a vampire problem they can give me for Kansas City; it'll be bloody enough and close enough that Sam and Dean should catch wind of it before it's a problem I have to deal with on my own.” 

Linda says, “The families?”

“There are several very old purebred families of shifters, vampires, werewolves, and ghouls who run Chicago like Capone did in the 40's. I think he took the idea from them, actually.” Olle says munching away at his salad. “Apparently there are a few new packs of vampires trying to get ordained into the family; I don't know much else; except Gideon wants rid of at least one of them and said I could have the job.”

“Immortality has it's perks in the friends you keep,” Beth says with a grin. “What kind of truck?”

“It's a new model black Dodge 2500. It has a toolbox in the bed and a wench and a plow and five and a half ton towing capacity and I've ordered some other stuff to help me modify the back seat and the bed for storage. All that shit I stockpiled and shipped while I was living with Kalle will pay off now; I'll have weapons and lore books and just enough crazy to make me look professional and nearly as good as they are.”

“They won't be fooled by a half-assed cover story,” Kevin says from his empty place halfway down the table. “If they think, for even a second, you're not who you say you are, or that you're dangerous or stupid, Dean will kill you.”

“It's not a half-assed cover story Kevin,” Olle says seriously. “I have hunted since there were things to hunt.”

“He knows what he's doing Kevin,” Gabriel says digging into the spaghetti in the middle of the table. “He can shine those two like a brand new Jag and still come out looking clean. He isn't lying, he's facilitating; that is what he does.”

“And when Sam and Dean find out you willingly sacrificed innocent people to vampires in order to 'facilitate' what do you think they're going to do?” Kevin asks seriously.

“You do have a point,” Balthazar quips, “they're gluttons for punishment when it comes to saving people.”

“Okay, new plan,” Olle says grabbing his own spaghetti. “I go to Chicago, take the job for the family, get paid, and use a nest of dead vamps as a feather in my cap when making introductions.” Olle takes a bite then grabs a piece of garlic bread. “I know a couple hunters here in the states and they know Sam and Dean. I've been offered introductions before but never wanted to get too close. Bobby wanted me to meet them.” Olle smiles sadly, he misses Bobby Singer.

“You knew Bobby, like when he was alive?” Kevin asks.

Olle and Beth laugh and say, “Yeah,” in unison.

“We met in Vietnam, he was a helicopter pilot,” Olle says. “When he came back to the states, I was still overseas. I wasn't fighting, I was hunting then, too. By the time I got back, Bobby was already a hunter; I was devastated when I found out why. I caught up to him, but I was already hot on Azazal's trail and we crossed paths quickly before I ended up a hell hound's volcanic chew toy.” 

Olle goes back to eating and Beth continues, “When Olle came back to the states in 2005 he needed Bobby's help so he told him he was Einar's son. When he got back here again, Dean was already in Hell. Bobby tried to get them all together a couple times but,”

“By then it was too late,” Lucifer say sadly. He has been eating, slowly, while Gabriel coaxes him, and this is the only thing he has said to anyone but Gabriel since they came downstairs.

“No,” Olle says. “No. By then it was important I didn't meet them because I knew too much. I should have tipped the scales, I guess, but every time I've ever tired fate or God or something has gotten in my way. Last thing I wanted was Michael on my ass again sending Raphael or the whole fucking Host after me.” Olle takes a long drink of his half empty glass of wine before going on, “If he'd drug me, body and all, alive, into Heaven I could still be trapped there. I stalked Lilith, I searched for Cain, I did my damnedest to stop the breaking of seals, then I fed Bobby information that pushed the boys into the path of the horsemen so they could get the rings. I sold Crowley out so he would be forced to help them. If I'd known they were going to try to use the Colt, I would have stopped them; my super secret identity be damned.”

“You wanted Cain to kill Lilith so Sam could never break the final seal,” Lucifer says. 

“Yes and I wanted Cain outside that door to stick the first blade in Sam's, your, chest if we failed. When I found him, he told me the blade was lost and I started searching for it, but I was too late.” Olle drains the last of his wine, sitting the glass down by his empty plate. 

“So you're leaving tomorrow, where can I drop you?” Gabriel asks into the awkward silence. 

“My flight leaves at noon tomorrow for Chicago and I'm staying at the Drake. I'll leave for Kansas City the following morning; I have to be at the hospital at noon. I guess you can take me to the airport.” Olle gets up and starts clearing the table. Beth helps, loading the dishwasher and making coffee, while Olle puts the eclairs they bought, when they were in Paris buying bread, in the middle of the table. “We need to talk about how this is going to work, all of you staying here,” Olle says sitting down with a cup of coffee and pulling an eclair out of the stack.

“What's to talk about?” Balthazar asks talking with his mouth full of pastry. “We all stay here; I catch up on years of missed TV, while Luci finds his marbles, and Beth become the next Girl With The Dragon Tattoo.”

“That reminds me, Gabriel,” Olle says watching the angel pull two eclairs from the stack after giving his brother one, “I ordered a Kindle and some books I think Lucifer should read. I shipped it overnight so it might not get here tomorrow but it should be here day after at the latest.” 

Everyone eats dessert before Olle speaks again, “Beth, before we head to the airport tomorrow, you and Gabriel both need cell phones. Prayer is one sided, at best, and I can't have you popping in if I'm with Moose and Squirrel.”

“What about me?” Balthazar asks petulantly.

“You'll use yours for porn and online dating; I know you,” Olle says with a chuckle. “Fine, but remember this: Linda and Beth are the only ones allowed to leave the house alone after I'm gone. If the Darkness is out there somewhere, if you're spotted by a demon or another angel, or you tip off anything that you're alive and staying here it puts us all in danger.” Olle stretches back over his chair, “Lucifer,” he says settling back.

“Yes?” the angle says looking up from his coffee cup, having already finished his eclair.

“I think it would be best if you didn't leave the house if at all possible. The backyard is fine, but if Crowley, for whatever reason, has anyone watching the house and you're seen outside the warding it could mean a lot of trouble.” Olle hates to confine him here, taking him from one prison to another, but his mental state means he can't really protect himself yet. 

Lucifer shakes his head in agreement and Gabriel nudges his shoulder before saying, “We'll need to train. It will probably be a lot more subterfuge than anything but, depending on where the battle lines are drawn, it may turn into a full blown war.” Olle shakes his head and the angel continues, “Mrs. Tran, your backyard is totally fenced in and expertly warded, since you don't have a pool, would it be possible for me to work my mojo back there and give us somewhere that isn't your living room to spar?”

“I don't see why not as long as it won't alert the neighbors to what's going on,” she says. 

“Perfect,” he says. “And, maybe a little dimension bending so we all get our own bedroom? We don't need to sleep but I doubt you want us taking up space all over your house all the time.” Linda just kind of nods her head and Gabriel snaps. “Excellent! Olle you have to share with Beth tonight since you're leaving tomorrow.” His eyebrows wiggle and he's grinning like he's giving them some great gift.

“Thanks for trying Gabe,” Beth says all false sincerity, “masturbation is the sincerest for of self-acceptance but we're both strictly into dick.”

“I'm not even strictly into dick,” he says a little shocked. “Come on,” he says turning to Olle, “never done a little muff diving in all the time you've spent as a person?”

“I was born a trans man and I'm arguably pan and that's how I live my life,” Olle says seriously.

“So you're,” he turns to Beth.

She finishes for him, “Seriously hating everything about my body all the time? Not exactly, it's just an extra level of emotional pain and discomfort.”

“Oh darling,” Balthazar says zapping her into his lap, “you can sleep with me tonight and I will seriously help you learn to love the body you have until you can have the body the love.”

He has one hand across her thighs and the other around her waist. Beth laughs wrapping her arms around his neck before saying, “You're absolutely terrible!” But she touches their foreheads together and says, “What are we waiting for?” 

They disappear upstairs and Olle chuckles, “I'm not strictly into dick, Gabe, not exactly, but I am a slut and I'll take every available opportunity to get laid. Beth got exactly what she wanted out of what she said.”

“You slept with Cain's wife after he died,” Lucifer says. After a pause, he goes on, sounding confused, “I don't understand sex.”

“I did, you're right,” Olle says. “Even as a demon he was pissed about that.” Olle gets up for more coffee and says, “What about it don't you understand Luce? Is it the emotions or the physical or something else?”

“The only time I've ever,” he starts but shakes his head. “I understand the emotional and physical pleasure from a biological perspective; release of endorphins and hormones, stress relief, and biological need to procreate and form emotional attachments to form co-parenting structures that ensure the survival of the offspring. I don't understand what they,” Lucifer gestures with his hand upward to indicate Beth and Balthazar, “are doing. They aren't in love, I don't think, they don't want to breed, so why?”

“You want to know,” Gabriel says like he is just starting to understand, “how they, anyone, can have sex without forming an emotional bond. Why they do it if they don't want anything but the fleeting physical pleasure out of it.”

“Yes,” he says making a bit of a disgusted face before going on, “it seems too, sticky, too intimate, to just do with a total stranger or someone you don't want to form a relationship with for that purpose.”

“I like sex,” Olle says, “with whomever, because it can be a purely physical act. But, as people, we get emotionally caught up in our physical sensations. You can end up sharing something, sometimes with a total stranger, someone that you'll never see again, and, even though, or because, you know it isn't going beyond what you have right now, it can be deeply emotional. Sometimes it is easier to share yourself with a stranger than it is with someone you already know.”

“Someone who wants nothing more from you than to pour all of their energy into giving you intense physical pleasure won't judge you the way someone who wants to fuck you then have you raise their children will,” Linda says from across the table. Kevin makes gagging noises from where he is in the dining room still setting up computer equipment and Mrs. Tran just smiles.

Olle chuckles and stands up, “She is absolutely right. And, on that note, I'm going to bed. Five days in Hell and being dead all day yesterday was not restful.”

“Good night,” is echoed by the room as Olle makes his way upstairs. Gabriel's extra bedrooms are all labeled and have their own bathrooms; all of his luggage is on the bench at the foot of the bed and he peels out of his clothes and turns the light off before getting a better look around.


	6. Chapter 6

At about six the next morning, according to the alarm clock by the bed, Olle hears the door open and sits up to watch Beth crawl into bed with him, her hair is wet and heavy in the braid down her back and her skin is still warm and damp from the shower. She curls up into him with an exhausted sigh and he wraps his arms around her laughing quietly, “Did you get what you wanted?” he asks.

She shakes her head rubbing her face into his chest and snuggling closer to him, if that is even possible, “He's almost as messed up as the other two and he doesn't have anyone to help him. Cas murdered him in cold blood, in pursuit of power. The only one of them he could ever go to, the only one who was ever really his friend or his brother. He needed that more than I did.”

Olle heaves a sigh and rubs his callused hand down her bare back, “We've finally stepped in it now, haven't we?” She laughs and relaxes into his chest while he continues to massage her back with one hand, “I never thought we'd have to watch them die and really care about them again.”

“We could come out of this unscathed,” she says quietly into the dark. “We could defeat the Darkness, lock her away again or find a way to kill her, and lose none of them in the process. They all lived through it the last time.”

“God!” Olle says rolling them over so he can spoon Beth to him and they can both be more comfortable. “I forgot we were always so fucking optimistic! I hate that about us,” he says as they both get comfortable. 

She chuckles and they both lay there for a few minutes before she says, “Are you going to get up and get ready to go? We've got stuff to do before you leave.” Olle groans like the last thing he wants to do is get up and she says, “I was thinking. Gideon would never betray you, but how well can we trust the other families or even his lieutenants or this nest he's sending you after? I think you need to check into your flight so they can confirm you boarded the plane then get Gabe to snap you back here so you can arm yourself properly before you just show up at the airport in Chicago; where he'll most certainly have someone following you.”

“If that's what you want,” Olle says rolling over and turning on the bedside lamp. He comes back to Beth and notices Balthazar has done some serious damage to her skin; she is covered in teeth marks and black and blue bruises from the angel's mouth and hands. Olle rolls her over and checks her thoroughly before saying, “Make him heal you when you let him do this!” His hands are gentle as he finds the black and purple bite mark on her ass that looks like it drew blood and the impact bruises on her inner thighs, “I know we think more of ourselves than this Beth, why did you let him hurt you; it couldn't have all been pleasurable.”

“He may have gotten a little overzealous,” Beth says flinching when Olle moves his hand up her abdomen to cradle her breasts and examine the bite marks and finger bruises. The anti-possession tattoo around her naval has been bruised so badly around the bottom that it is difficult to make out the design and when Olle rolls her over to examine her back the world-tree there, an exact mimic of the one on his side, has scratch marks along the top and full hand bruises wrapped around her ample hips. “It was a misguided attempt on my part to help him cope and he didn't realize he was hurting me because I didn't tell him. All he wanted to do was feel something. If he weren't an angel it wouldn't have happened.”

Olle gets up without a word, pulls on his jeans, foregoing underwear, and not bothering to button them either before he pads out of the room and down the hall to Gabriel's room. After a soft knock the angel answers wearing just a pair of red boxer-briefs, “Sorry mate,” the trickster angel says giving him a slow once over, “I'm not in the mood right now; rain check?”

Olle laughs in spite of how upset he is right now and says, “Absolutely, but that's not what I came for.” He pulls Gabriel up the hall and into Beth's room, trying not to notice how well their hands always seem to fit together. 

Beth has rolled onto her side, put a pillow against her back, and pulled one to her chest so she can use the king sized length of it to ease the pressure on her breasts as well as between her thighs. Olle knows, just looking at her, she is a lot more uncomfortable than she is letting on. He feels guilty for massaging her back earlier; it had to have hurt. Gabriel takes in a breath at the sight of her, the unmistakable hand-shaped bruise wrapped around her hip visible from the door. He goes over to the bed and does his own thorough inspection healing each bruise, bite mark, and scratch he touches before placing a finger on her forehead and healing unseen or overlooked damage. 

“Balthazar did this?” he asks sitting on the edge of the bed and rubbing his hand down her arm. “What happened?”

Beth rolls over on her back and reaches up with her other hand to run through Gabriel's hair before cupping his face and he leans into it, “I had to let him take what he needed so he wouldn't feel so alone and frightened.” She sits up and wraps her arms around him, skin on skin, before asking, “How are you?” The angel starts to cry silently while she scratches her nails gently against his scalp. Olle still hates what she did, but knows he would have done it too; he leaves the two of them alone on the bed and goes into the bathroom to use the angel-made steam shower. 

When Olle comes out of the shower, the angel is gone and Beth is asleep. He grabs a pair of boxer-briefs then tugs on the jeans he'd just taken off and pulls out a faded Opeth t-shirt before putting on socks and sneakers. 

He goes downstairs to make coffee but Gabriel has already beaten him to it. He is sitting at the table with a red Starbucks cup, his classic peppermint hot chocolate, while the coffee maker drips. He and Lucifer are both dressed in exactly what they were wearing the day before and, before anyone can speak, Linda comes into the room ready to grab coffee and breakfast before work. Everyone mumbles their good mornings and Balthazar comes down while she is finishing up a bowl of cereal. Gabriel snaps up four shots of espresso in a venti cup for Olle's coffee without being asked and everyone sits quietly until Linda hugs Kevin goodbye and leaves. 

“Are we all ready to go?” Beth asks coming into the room as Linda shuts the front door. She takes the cup of already perfect coffee Gabriel snaps up for her and she sits between Olle and Balthazar. “Gabe, Olle and I were talking this morning, I'm not comfortable with him going into Chicago unarmed. I trust Gideon, but not the rest of them.” Gabriel nods and she continues, “It has to look like he was on the plane, they can't know about any of you and they can't think he is being used by angels period.”

“My flight lands at 12:45 and my meeting isn't until 5:30 but I'm certain someone'll be watching me; probably from the moment I get to the airport here in Detroit.” Olle says getting up to search for something to eat. “I'm not exactly inconspicuous,” he says hovering between the refrigerator and island trying to decide what he wants to eat. Again, Gabriel snaps and there is food on the table so Olle just refills his cup and sits back down to maple-pecan waffles with bacon. 

“You can check a bag,” Kevin says. “But it would probably just be easier for you to check in at the gate, let Gabe zap you back here and get your gear then have him zap you to Chicago when your flight lands.”

“Great minds Kevin,” Gabriel says with a smile, sucking maple syrup off a piece of bacon. “The zapping is easier and no one has to see me if I don't want them to. If Olle checks a bag they'll know he's armed, if he doesn't, they'll have to play a guessing game.”

Olle pulls his tablet off the middle of the table and says, “Okay, let's order cell phones.” He adds four new phones to his account and has them all shipped to the Tran house then, at ten o'clock, as he is going upstairs to pack, the UPS truck arrives with Lucifer's Kindle and books. 

When Olle comes back downstairs, with his carry-on packed and ready to go, Lucifer is sitting in the living room with Balthazar, reading the stack of children's books while the younger angel watches television. Olle goes into the kitchen to find Gabriel reading the Kindle while Beth and Kevin are in the dining room working. Olle bypasses the angel for the dining room and asks, “What are you two doing?”

Beth looks up from where she and Kevin were clicking away and talking, “I'm giving Sam and Dean their lives back.” She stands up and goes over a printer Olle doesn't think he bought yesterday to pull a bunch of pages for Olle to look at; it's all of the boys' wanted posters and outstanding warrants as well as death certificates. “I'm going to systematically replace every known image with as yet to be determined images of probably long dead Campbells. Then I'm going to revamp the boys and give them identification so good the FBI will think they're really agents. And,” she says enthusiastically, plopping back down in her chair, “the next time we need to be new again, I'll know how to do it; all I gotta do is make sure I stay up to date on the technology. I'm not even real right now so I gotta do something for myself as well.”

Olle shakes his head in approval. “I'm gonna go,” he says handing her back the print outs. “Don't let Balthazar drive the Jag.” Beth laughs as she stands up to hug him. He turns to Kevin saying, “Kevin, tell your Mom how much I appreciate what she is doing for us,” and, as he shakes the kids hand, he pulls him aside, toward the back of the room, and speaks to him quietly, “Kevin, I know how difficult your life was and I want you to know how much I appreciate what you're doing for Beth.”

“It's for Sam and Dean,” Kevin says. “They're family. They taught me that you do whatever you can, as long as you can, whenever you can, no matter what, for family.”

“That's good Kevin, that you still consider yourself a part of the family, they've lost so many and your willingness to keep at it shows me the kind of men they are. Now,” Olle says seriously, “I need to know what kind of man you are.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Lucifer, Kevin, is pretty messed up.”

“Yeah,” he says, “I've noticed. He reminds me of Cas when we first met.”

“The books, the reading, it's supposed to make him think; supposed to help him learn about himself, about humanity.”

“Okay,” the prophet says confused.

“You've read the books, you've learned the lessons, and you're intelligent enough to help him understand. He is, in a way, like a child. Learning how to live in a human world, in a human body, with human emotions for the first time.” 

“You want me to teach him?” Kevin asks skeptical.

“I want you to talk to him, about what he's reading, what it means, how he feels about it. You know what happened to Metatron when he became obsessed with the idea of creating a story. He was always grade A guano but that obsession with the story, and not the message, is dangerous. Just help remind him of the ideals behind humanity. It could be by suggesting specific books or turning him on to poetry or just letting him see how much you love your Mom.”

“I can do that,” the kid says shaking his head. “Teach the Devil how to be a real boy,” he chuckles.

“You know, Pinocchio kills the cricket,” Olle says, “twice.” 

“I'm already dead,” the kid says, “what can he do to me?” Olle chuckles as he walks past Beth, dropping a kiss to the top of her head. 

**

Back in the kitchen, Olle sits next to Gabriel saying, “Whatcha readin' kid?”

Gabriel smiles and lays the e-reader down on the table, “Supernatural,” the angel says sitting back in his seat. “There is so much more to it than all of this; isn't there?” he asks sadly picking the Kindle back up. 

“Does the Bible ever really get it all right? Or was Loki too busy to notice? I was there, for some of it, and it's a crap book; believe me. Doesn't do half of it justice. Gets the other half totally wrong.” Olle picks up the Kindle and hands it back to Gabriel, “The sentiment is there, though, mostly. Love and family and the greater good, whatever the hell that is anymore.” Gabriel lays the e-reader back on the table and nods. Olle looks at him and says, “Hey,” scratching his hand through the angel's hair exactly like Beth had earlier, “are you okay?” The angel leans into the touch and Olle goes on, “I'm not fishing for reassurance here, I really wanna know.”

“Heaven is a complete cluster-fuck and there is no way, besides all out war, any of us can go home again. Dad is nowhere to be seen, even now; no matter what He did bringing us back. And I'm left picking up the pieces. Pieces of sanity for the brother that killed me. Pieces of grief while we're both mourning the death of Michael; as much as we're able after everything he did to us. Pieces of a battle plan I don't even have. Pieces of hope for everyone else involved. All while trying to figure out a way to, hopefully, kill my aunt.” Gabriel slumps fully over to rest his head on Olle's shoulder and the man switches hands, rubbing the archangel's back with the hand that was in his hair and carding his other through the hair at the back of his neck. “I'm not ever going to be okay again, ever, Olle. I'm just trying to find a way to be okay with that. Humans do it all the time, don't they, just keep going despite all logic to the contrary.”

Olle kisses the top of Gariel's head and pulls back to look him in the eye. “That ability, to keep going no matter what, is instinct. A lot of us lose that, a lot of us hurt for so long we go numb, not just to pain, to everything. When that happens, it is next to impossible to come back from; you start to wonder why and you decide you don't want anything around you to change, you just don't want to be a part of it any more. Don't let yourself get that far gone, kid, before you ask for help; I missed you when you weren't here.”

Gabriel gets up and looks down at Olle, he leans forward and kisses him long and slow without touching him anywhere else; he opens his mouth, adding moisture to the kiss but never letting his tongue venture out to taste before pulling back and, with a grin, asks, “You ready to go?” Olle nods, grinning as well, and they go back into the living room to grab his suitcase before leaving. 

Gabriel snaps them about two miles from the airport and drives the Jag the rest of the way before letting him out and driving the same distance away before snapping the Jag back to Linda's. When Olle has handed over his boarding pass and let the stewardess point him to his seat Gabriel snaps them back to Linda's garage where Olle pulls a machete, a sawed off shotgun, a 9mm Taurus handgun, a Glock, an angel blade and boxes of salt, iron, silver, and standard rounds out of the trunk. He adds lockpicks, several knives of different metals, a flask of Holy Water and one of salt, lighters, matches, flashlights, and a rosewood rosary to his wares before closing the trunk and storing what he doesn't hide on his person inside his carry on. Gabriel snaps him back onto the plane like he never left and Olle enjoys an uneventful flight to Chicago.


	7. Chapter 7

Olle notices the werewolf following him the minute he gets to baggage claim. He takes a cab to The Drake and a shifter picks up his trail there, but he just goes directly to his room to put his luggage away before going back downstairs to Drake Bros' for lunch before stopping at Lavazza Espression for coffee and something sweet. Back in his room, Olle changes into a gray plaid suit, pink shirt and socks, gray tie, and his brown belt and shoes before he arms himself completely. He orders dinner, to be delivered at ten o'clock tonight, then has time to check his e-mail and make several important phone calls about his return to work tomorrow. Thirty minutes before his meeting with Gideon, the front desk calls up to let him know his car is waiting and he goes downstairs to the black sedan Gideon sent for him. 

The car stops at The Museum of Contemporary Art where Olle is met by a young blond shifter with green eyes, wearing a gray pencil skirt, cream colored blouse, and black Christian Louboutin's. “Dr. Wallander,” she says holding out her hand, “I'm Margo Lassiter.” She does not sound pleased to meet him and her grip is intended to frighten, however, she is all outward politeness.

A part of Olle would love to know what this woman would make of Beth because he knows what Beth would make of her, and she would steal her shoes when she was finished showing her, too. Olle smiles and shakes her hand unimpressed with her bone crunching grip. “Miss Lassiter,” he says following her up the stairs. It is apparent there is some sort of event here tonight so Olle merely follows along waiting to find out what is going on.

“Gideon will find you once you're inside,” she says getting him through security without a pat down, thankfully, or an invitation. “Please enjoy your evening.”

“Thank you Miss Lassiter,” Olle says breaking away from her once he is through the front doors. Olle grabs a glass of champagne and spends almost two hours admiring the exhibits before Gideon, a young male shifter, and a middle-age Asian werewolf approach him through the crowd. 

“What is your name now Ancestor?” Gideon asks with a pleased grin as he reaches out his hand.

The two men stand nearly eye level to each other and Gideon's amber eyes almost remind Olle of Gabe but his obsidian skin and faint Caribbean accent remove any other trace of comparison. Reaching out his hand, Olle smiles and laughs before answering, “Olle, boy,” the other two look immediately frightened when Olle calls Gideon 'boy' but he does nothing but smile, “my name is Olle and it has been a very, very long time since anyone has called me Ancestor.” The two men shake hands and hug briefly before Olle backs away. 

“Olle, then,” Gideon says. “Olle, this,” he gestures to the man to his left, “is Hiroyuki Iwamatsu and he speaks for the were-community.” Olle bows at a 45 degree angle and waits for the were to return the bow. “This is David Lassiter,” Gideon says indicating the young man to his right. “Simon, who I believe you knew as a very young man, passed away; he was David's father and now David speaks for the shifters.” 

Olle extends his hand, “Mr. Lassiter,” he says. “Your father was a good man.”

“Thank you very much, sir,” David says shaking his hand.

Olle drops his glass on a passing tray and begins to walk with Gideon while the others follow slightly behind. When Gidoen speaks it is in a language Olle is certain the other two do not know because it has been extinct for several millennium; it is a language with no written alphabet and Olle dares a glance behind him to be certain the other two are in the dark. “When you called,” Gideon says, “I was not surprised even though it has been almost one hundred years.”

“The Darkness,” Olle responds and Gideon nods. “Introductions to the two young hunters who continually fuck up Creation are difficult given my,” Olle looks for a word, “situation in life.” 

Gideon smiles and nods. “They would try to kill you, repeatedly,” he laughs.

“I need a situation that puts me on even ground with them. If I am seen as completely human, and as knowledgeable and skilled as they are, it will go a long way to gaining their trust and them allowing me to help them.”

“I would say we should kill them,” Gideon says, “but that has been tried before and it never seems to work; besides, they always seem to clean up the messes they make, no matter how bad.”

“I understand I am requesting a boon,” Olle begins but Gideon waves his hand and cuts him off.

“Nonsense! We are on level ground here; you have a need and I have a need.” 

They have made there way to the bar where Gideon orders what is distinctly not red wine while Olle and David have whiskey and the Japanese man abstains. “So,” David says once they make there way to a cocktail table in a quiet corner, “what were the two of you talking about? And what language was that?”

Olle laughs and turns up his drink, “I don't believe it had a name when it was spoken.”

“Old times young Lassiter,” Gideon says. “We were just talking of old times.”

Hiroyuki speaks for the first time, “We should, sir, I think,” he addresses Gideon, “ask the world renowned vascular surgeon and war hero why, after all this time, he is returning to hunting.” He turns to Olle and asks in clipped Japanese, “Why do you seek a boon from the seven families?”

“This is not a boon!” Gideon replies in English. “We have a problem and he is offering his services as the solution. Our hands will be perfectly clean in this and his connection to us will be nonexistent.”

“I returned,” Olle replies to Hiroyuki with equally perfect Japanese, “to hunting when the bearer of the Mark of Cain began to lose his mind. You are the son of Oy Iwamatsu who is the grandson of Fenrir and Mao Ueto. You are fourth generation pure blood were and you seem far more concerned about my being here than you are about what is coming. You are old enough, child, to know of what I speak and, hopefully, intelligent enough to be more afraid of it than you are of me or anything else in Creation.” Olle's curse means he is able to manipulate Creation and, therefore, he can, without ringing a single supernatural bell, radiate power and he does so now; directing it full force at the Japaneses man addressing him, who visibly cowers. No one needs to know that, while contained in a human body, there is very little he can do with that power.

“I am all apologies,” Hiroyuki says bowing at a 45 degree angle, “whatever Gideon decides is what will be done. It was an honor to have met you Ancestor. Gideon,” he turns to the other man and bows, “if you will excuse me.” He goes to the bar, orders a whiskey, then disappears.

“You shouldn't have threatened him,” David says watching him leave the room.

“The boy doesn't speak Japanese,” Gideon says to Olle quickly. “He means no offense.” Gideon understood what was said and felt Olle's anger and power. He doesn't want to see anything happen to David and knows Olle is armed, would be a fool not to be.

“It's perfectly alright,” Olle says turning to Gideon with a smile, no trace of earlier power anywhere. “Have you spoken to your father recently?” Olle asks finishing his drink.

“He and I were in communication during that whole Leviathan fiasco, but no, not recently,” Gideon says. “Tarak likes to think he is the oldest thing in Creation,” Gideon says with a chuckle, “so he tends to avoid his brothers, his children, and anyone who won't serve him blindly.”

Olle nods his head knowingly, “He was always like that. He'll have to pull his head out of the clouds now, though. Fenrir was worried months ago and, now that the Darkness has returned and the archangels are dead or locked away, the children of Eve may be our only hope.”

“Whatever we can do to help, Olle,” Gideon says seriously, “bring it to our attention. We have global connections.” 

Olle nods again but, before he can respond, David asks, “What is the Darkness? And who are Fenrir and Tarak?”

“I forget sometimes that many of you age and die like humans,” Olle says. “How old are you boy?”

“I'm twenty-four.” He sounds nervous now, he is beginning to understand, despite the language barriers, that Olle is not just any other hunter; is not entirely human.

“Tarak and Fenrir are brothers. There mother was a child born of two powerful energies older than history, older than time. There father was the father of men. They were among the first Creatures to walk the earth and hunt the dark places. Their children's children's children's children became the Creatures you all are today. There were 12 of them in the beginning and now there are thousands of different species of you.” Olle turns to Gideon and says, “How many of them don't know their own history?” The vampires just shakes his head sadly.

“You're joking, right?” David laughs. He looks between the two men for a moment and sobers, “You're not joking. Alright, the Darkness, what is it, what will it do, and how do we stop it?”

“In the beginning,” Olle starts, “blah, blah, blah,” he waves his hand, “and God said, 'Let there be Light' which was what?”

“The sun,” David answers.

“No!” Olle responds quickly and even Gideon looks at him startled. “He has many names; Morningstar, Light Bringer.”

“Lucifer,” Gideon says while David says, “The Devil,” at the same time and Olle nods.

“And this Light,” Olle says, “cast out the Darkness.” David upends his whiskey and Olle continues, “However, that act drove him mad as a hatter and caused his fall from Grace, his dissent into Hell, and the Apocalypse.”

“That Winchester boy,” Gideon says, “cast him and his brother Michael back into Hell years ago. They are totally out of reach now that Gabriel is dead.” Olle nods and Gideon looks worried.

“Winchester?” David says.

Olle turns to him, “You've heard of them?”

“I know them,” he says in awe. “Which one of them stopped the Apocalypse?”

“Sam,” Olle says. “The younger one, about yea tall,” he puts his hand about nose level, “shaggy hair.”

“He seems the type,” David says. “The other one is an idiot. They were the ones who helped me find Violet,” David says to Gideon who nods.

“Gideon,” Olle says turning now, “your hospitality is always appreciated, however, my flight leaves O'Hare at seven in the morning.”

“Of course,” Gideon says holding out his hand for Olle to take. “Please don't hesitate to contact me if needs be.” Olle shakes David's hand and leaves.

Like clockwork, Margo meets him out front to show him to his car. Once inside the car, Olle finds a beautiful, vintage inspired, brown leather satchel containing three sealed manilla envelopes and a cursed Shinto coin for tracking and monitoring. He pulls the coin out and leaves it in the ashtray. The envelopes contain information on the vampires, where to find them, and the last is the agreed upon $100,000, in non-sequential bills that are all between three and five years old, for a job well done.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Am I the only one who hates how jumbled my chapters are in terms of length?

When Olle returns to the hotel, he stops at the front desk to order a wake-up call for four-thirty the next morning and a taxi to the airport for five. He has just enough time to return to his room, pack his weapons, so he can check his bag for tomorrow's flight, and shower, before room service arrives with his dinner. As he is cutting into his rare steak, Olle wonders how everything is going back at the Tran house. He has only been gone a few hours but, truth be told, he is worried about them all and, like Beth was, he is loathed to be away from her. Swallowing, Olle clears his throat and prays, “Hey Gabe, you listening? I was just wondering how it's going. Linda's got my number, you can...” but there is no need to finish because Gabriel appears in front of him.

“Hey hot stuff,” Gabriel says sitting down opposite Olle and taking his wine glass. “How'd it go with Gideon?” He drains the glass and fills it back up with the bottle Olle ordered with dinner.

Olle laughs while he swallows then takes the glass back for a drink before he responds, “I caught up with Gideon, got into an argument with a Japanese werewolf, and educated a shifter kid on his own history.” He gestures to the satchel on the bed, “It's all in there, have a look.”

Gabriel looks through the papers then whistles at the money he dumps on the bed, “They paid you up front? Gideon must trust you.”

“Half now, half when the kill is confirmed, and an extra $10,000 for every vamp over 10, actually,” Olle says finishing his dinner and refilling his glass. “I'm going to need it to pay for Beth's computer equipment, four new cell phones, and what I suspect is your brother's burgeoning addiction to reading.” He walks over to the bed, where Gabriel is closing everything back into the satchel, and hands him the wineglass. “Plus whatever Linda charges me for whatever Baz is going to get into because we both know it is just a matter of time.”

Gabriel drains the glass again and snaps the bottle and glass full once more before saying, “Did you want to have sex? Because I don't have all night. Luci is with Beth and Kevin and she's got him reading the Harry Potter series; he's gonna freak out soon enough over something and she'll be praying me right back.”

Olle takes the glass and drains it before setting it back on the table. Going back over to the bed he looks down at Gabriel and says, “Since you asked so nicely,” before he takes the angel's mouth. With his hands cupping Gabriel's face, the angel clings to Olle's biceps. The big man starts slowly, like Gabriel had this morning, then darts his tongue out to caress Gabriel's bottom lip and the angel opens his mouth on a sigh, to invite Olle in with a hum of contentment and a soft moan as their tongues touch. They both taste of the wine they were drinking but Olle licks away the over lying flavor until the natural sweetness that is Gabriel is all he can taste; he smiles into the kiss and runs his hands down Gabriel's chest and around his waist before he finally breaks away for air. 

“I do have to breathe, Gabe,” he says backing up to pull his gray PAC-man t-shirt over his head and watching the angel discard his own shirt. Olle's hands itch to touch those miles of un-marked, golden skin and he drops on the foot of the king sized bed. 

“Come here,” he says taking Gabriel's wrist and pulling him into the space between his knees so he can finally get his hands on him. Olle slides his hands around the angel’s waist, thumbs dipping into his hip joint to rub slow circles before he licks up the center of Gabriel's chest to the hollow of the throat; his skin tastes like burnt sugar and he is half drunk on the flavor of the archangel. Olle nips and sucks along his collarbone and Gabriel shivers and puts his hands in the big man's hair, moaning when he bites down just hard enough to leave a bruise that starts to heal before it even forms. Olle works his way up to the angel's ear lobe and Gabriel lets out a grunt as he takes it between his teeth to worry and suckle. “You have no idea how thankful I am you're back,” Olle whispers before tracing his tongue along the shell of the angel's ear and pulling on the lobe again.

Olle's hands have been roaming steadily over every available inch of exposed skin and, as he drags his tongue across the prickly stubble of Gabriel's jaw, to find his mouth again, he pops the button on the angel's jeans. Gabriel hums his satisfaction with Olle's progress as there mouths find each other again; much more ravenous than before. Olle's hands stop there, though, to run back up Gabriel's chest to tweak each of his nipples into a hard nub while the angel runs his hands down Olle's chest and around his waist to dip under the waistband of his sleep pants and his boxer-briefs so he can cup his ass and knead both cheeks. Olle moans and breaks their kiss to gulp in much needed oxygen while he slides his hands around the angel's back to pull them flush together, skin on skin, before he moans into the angel's mouth again. 

“I absolutely love the way you taste,” Olle says kissing and licking his way down Gabriel's chest to his nipples. “I couldn't bring myself to remember how good you tasted.” Gabriel starts to say something but it is lost on a sharp intake of breath as Olle's stubbled chin drags across his nipple before being sucked into a hot, eager mouth. Olle's left hand in the middle of Gabriel's back is supporting the angel while he writhes under an expert mouth and Olle's right hand finds its way to cup the growing bulge in the front of Gabriel's jeans. Gabriel growls as his hips push into Olle's kneading hand while the man drags his stubbled face over to lave attention on the angel's neglected nipple. 

Gabriel cards his left hand through Olle's close cropped hair and uses the length on top to pull his head up and crash their mouths together. Olle tastes like petrichor and, underneath the all-in-one shampoo, smells of fertile black Earth and crisp autumn days lost in the woods. “Why did we stop doing this?” Gabriel asks stepping back to shuck the rest of his clothes, amber eyes glowing golden. 

Olle pulls his clothes off then pushes himself back on the bed and, propped up on his elbows to look his fill at the hard, glistening angel, he answers, “I was in Hell, then Baldur and Kali, then you wanting no part of Azazel, then I had amnesia, then you were dead.” 

Gabriel smirks as he crawls up the bed and they both gasp as their bodies slot together, cocks finding each other and desperately sought after friction. “Way to sum up the last seven-thousand years,” Gabriel smirks as he finally starts to explore Olle's tattoo covered torso with his hands and mouth. Now that he is finally here again, after such a long time, Gabriel can't help but savor every inch of skin and desperate noise Olle makes while he explores the man's body.

Olle's hands are in Gabriel's hair, running up and down his arms, and all over his back while the angel takes his time going over every available piece of skin until he, finally, makes his way to Olle's cock. “Son of a bitch, Gabe! You have really got to stop teasing me, damn!” Olle pants when the angel totally avoids his pulsing erection in favor sucking and biting little bruises all along both of the big man's hip joints. The archangel smiles, nuzzling his face in the curls around Olle's pubic bone before settling between his legs to lick a stripe from Olle's perineum, over his balls, all the way to the tip of his cock before taking the head in his mouth to lave and suck. “Oh, yes!” Olle sighs as he melts back into the mattress while Gabriel continues to take him all the way to the base. As Gabriel swallows around the length pushing down his throat, Olle groans and cards his hand through the angel's hair, not forcing, just holding. 

Gabriel swallows a few more time before pulling off with a pop to look up at Olle with spit slick, kiss swollen, cherry red lips to say, “I'm about to ride you until one of us breaks.” 

Olle uses his hand, still around the angel's neck, to pull Gabriel up into a filthy kiss before reversing their positions so he can lick his way down that golden body and pull Gabriel's weeping cock into his own eager mouth. The archangel bucks up, fucking into the big man's mouth, and Olle just hums his delight then swallows around the head pushing at the back of his throat. Gabriel continues to fuck Olle's face until he feels himself right on the cusp of losing control, then the giant pulls back and the angel lets out a miserable groan at the loss. Breathing hard, Olle asks, “Lube?” The angel chuckles at the hoarseness and, with a snap, an open bottle appears in Olle's left hand. 

By the time Olle has worked three fingers deep into Gabriel's hole, the angel can't decide if he wants to fuck up into the man's mouth or press down deeper onto his fingers while they continue to scissor and grind against his prostate. “Please Olle, please,” he begs twisting his hands in the duvet until the cotton starts to tear. “Come on, please,” Gabriel pants. “Please, I'm ready, I'm ready. I need you to fuck me, now!”

Olle works his hand out of the angel's ass and pulls his mouth off his cock with a pop before slicking up his own erection, purple and pulsing steadily with pre-cum. He lines up, starting to push in slowly, and Gabriel starts to claw at his chest and arms trying to get him to go faster, “I know baby,” he says through clenched teeth; his whole body shaking with barely contained need. “I've got you, I know, but I'm gonna lose my shit if I go any faster.” Gabriel latches onto his biceps and rocks his hips up hard and fast to force Olle to slide all the way in with a groan before Gabriel pulls him down to lock their lips together while they both adjust to Olle's impressive length being balls deep in the angel. 

Gabriel locks his legs high around Olle's waist and starts to rock setting up a shallow pace that causes Olle to groan and break away from his mouth. “Oh yeah,” he groans bracing himself on his arms to get more leverage. “You like that angel or you want something a little harder?” he asks pulling almost all the way out before slamming back in.

The air punches out of Gabriel's lungs, he head falls back on the mattress, and his back arches off the bed while he moans, “Ugh, that Olle, harder, harder!”

Olle sets up a punishing pace and when he finds the angel's prostate Gabriel keens, “Fuck! Olle! Right there! Right there!” before he starts to babble in broken Norse interspersed with the odd word or two in Enochian. “Oh yes Olle! You're so good! S-so big! So beautiful! Don't stop! So big! Yes! Don't stop! I'm so close! So close!”

Olle widens his stance on his knees and reaches down between their bodies to take Gabriel's gorgeous cock in his hand and start to stroke. “Please Gabe, please, you've gotta cum! I'm right there, right there! I just need you to cum Gabe, can you? Please!” His hand grips the angel's cock a little tighter when Gabriel shakes his head, unable to speak at this point. Olle feels him start to tighten up around his cock and, with a twist of the wrist and a thumb pressed into his slit, Gabriel cums; his back arches off the bed and the moan he lets out shakes the walls as rope after rope of thick, hot cum paints his chest and abdomen. 

The clench of Gabriel, tight around Olle's cock, the sight of the angel's body arched, eyes clenched shut, and mouth open come together to make Olle cum harder and longer than he has in centuries. With an animalistic shout he drives deep and stills while Gabriel's aftershocks milk him completely dry. He collapses, heaving, on the angel; whose head is in the cleft of Olle's neck and shoulder.

When he has caught his breath, Olle lifts himself up on his elbows and pulls out slowly before leaning down to lick into Gabriel's mouth. “That,” he said laying back down on top of the angel to nuzzle his neck, “was...” he doesn't finish, just slides down the bed to lick Gabriel's belly clean then down further to clean his cock before pulling the angel's legs back to clean his own cum off the angel's thighs and out of his still dripping hole.

“Come here,” Gabriel says pulling him up by the shoulders so he can suck their mingled taste off the man's tongue. 

Once Olle pulls back, heaving for air, Gabriel snaps them both clean and under the covers. “Are you going to stay?” he asks looking down into those amber eyes, scratching his nails along the angel's scalp. 

Gabriel runs his hands along Olle's back where they are still pressed together and says with a shrug, “As long as I can, if that's okay.”

Olle kisses him again, deep and fast, before rolling so they are on their sides facing each other, and says, “Good,” with a grin. Gabriel laughs then rolls over to back up into Olle's chest so they can both get comfortable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please remember I've never written sex, of any kind, before.


	9. Chapter 9

Olle lets himself fall asleep quickly, believing Gabriel would most likely be gone when his wake-up call came. The angel, however, can't help but close his eyes and call out, once again, to his Father, “Dad, I don't know if you're listening, but it'd seem kinda crazy if you weren't after you took the time to bring us back. So, I need some of those mysterious ways of Yours and I need Your help becoming whatever it is You think I'm supposed to be. I can't let this man down,” he says rubbing his hand along Olle's arm where it is wrapped around him, “and I can't let Humanity down again either. Your disappointment I've almost come to expect, but I finally get, Dad, what you meant about people and they've gotta be saved. Just, please, help me find a way.” The archangel sighs and leans back into Olle before drifting off to sleep. 

**

When the room phone rings at four-thirty Gabriel mumbles a groggy, “Yes?” into the receiver while Olle stretches and rubs his face into the archangel's chest where he is laying. 

“Dr. Wallander, this is the front desk with your four-thirty wake-up call.” When Gabriel grunts into the phone the receptionist goes on, “We would also like to confirm your five o'clock order for a taxi.”

“Yes, thank you,” Gabriel says before hanging the phone up and looking down at Olle who, although awake, seems disinclined to move. The angel rubs his hand through the man's hair, scratching his nails along his scalp and asks, “Shower?” 

Olle nods and, when he sits up, has a perfectly sweet, creamy, espresso laden dark roast in his hand; he hummed his delight during a long drink before getting up and starting for the bathroom. “You coming?” he asks turning back to the angel sprawled on the bed looking his fill at Olle's backside. Olle takes another long pull from his cup while he turns on the shower then sits his drink on the sink to step under the hot water with Gabriel following directly behind.

Gabriel knew he should have been gone already, knew what happened last night was just something the two of them had been doing for as long as either of them could remember, but no one at the Tran house had yet to pray for his return and he found himself desperately wanting these few brief hours of pleasure to offset what he knew was coming. The sight of Olle naked and wet under the steaming shower made his half hard cock perk up even more and start to weep pre-cum. He pulls the bigger man down into a hard kiss before nuzzling his face in Olle's hairy chest to take in his scent before dropping to his knees in the shower. 

Olle falls against the water-warm tiles with a groan as Gabriel takes him in his mouth. Olle's hands come down to tangle in the angel's soft locks and he moans, “Oh fuck!” 

While Gabriel's tongue works the man to full hardness, his hands came up to cup Olle's firm ass so he can shove him forward indicating he wants the man to fuck his face. Olle chuckles shaking his head, “Alright angel, you asked for it,” he says before tightening his grip on Gabriel's hair, starting out with a few long, deep thrust before burying himself inside the angel's mouth and using quick shallow motions while Gabriel swallows around him and hums his approval. 

By the time Olle cums down the angel's throat with a groan, Gabriel has worked three fingers in the man's ass to scissor and grind against his prostate. As soon as Gabriel has sucked him totally clean, he flips the big man to press chest first into the tiles and, using Grace to compensate for their height difference, slides home with one sharp thrust. “Oh sweet Jesus, Gabe, right there! Fuck, yes!” Olle pants shoving back on the angel's cock. Gabriel licks up his spinal column before sucking a kiss over the semi-colon tattoo at the top of his spine then biting into his shoulder. Olle groans and arches back into the contact while Gabriel laces their fingers together and pins the man's hands above his head on the tile. When Gabriel cums, Olle is achingly hard again so, as soon as Gabriel pulls free, he spins to lift the angel, compact size once again, and press him into the tile before impaling him in one swift movement. Gabriel wraps his legs around the man and crashes their mouths together while they both move in tandem. Grunts and harsh breathing are the only sound they make, as Olle turns them both into the water. They are no longer kissing, merely sharing breath, as their mouths move together, and Gabriel digs his fingers into Olle's back as he cums between their bellies; Olle's rhythm falters as his thrusts deepen, using his grip on the angel to push him down into every thrust, and he follows the angel over the edge a second time. 

Olle doesn't put him down while they catch their breath and Gabriel says, “Stick your head under the water and let me wash your hair.” 

Olle holds him like it was no strain at all, even on shaky legs, and they take turns washing each others hair. Gabriel lets the big man soap him up thoroughly before putting him down to do his legs then the angel returns the favor and when they step out of the shower Olle laughs, “You time looped our shower.” It wasn't a question because, according to the clock above the toilet, they had spent less than ten minutes in the water.

Gabriel grinned handing him a towel, “I didn't want you to miss your flight.” Olle accepts the towel with a quick kiss to the angel's lips and starts to dry. 

Gabriel watches him dry thinking about how often they had done this, even if it was millennia ago; he wonders if this was his way of trying to find something familiar in this hellish landscape.

When Olle finishes brushing his teeth, he grabs his kit and turns to the angel, “You're thinking too hard Gabe.” Olle laughed picking his still warm coffee up off the sink and starting into the bedroom to dress, “Your Grace is running out your ears.”

Gabriel follows him out of the bathroom smirking to cover where his mind was really wondering and asks, “Your weapons?” 

“I'm going to check my bag,” Olle says pulling on jeans and the PAC-man t-shirt from last night. He shoves more things in his luggage and then puts all the electronics in the new satchel before pulling flip-flops out of the front zipper of his carry-on and zipping everything closed. 

Gabriel was dressed when Olle turned to the nightstand to grab his watch, wallet, and phone; the angel asked, “You're not taking anything to defend yourself on the plane?”

He looks over at Gabriel and smiles, “What can anyone really do to hurt me?” 

Gabriel will concede that point but it still makes him nervous. “Yeah, I see your point,” he says running his hands through his wet hair so it dries immediately, “but watch yourself anyway. You did say last night you pissed off a werewolf.”

“They won't kill me until it is time to pay me for finishing the job they've given me. I don't trust the shifters either; that Margo bitch was intense and totally hiding something.” Olle talks while he double checks the room to make sure he has everything.

“Okay,” Gabriel shakes his head, “Do you think you'll need any help with the vampires?”

“I haven't gone through the file thoroughly enough to be sure. If I realize I do, it is a great introduction to Sam and Dean when I ask for help. I'll call Mike and tell him what I've run into, then ask him to get them to get in contact with me, since they're local to the area.” 

“Great,” Gabriel says, “just, just let me know what's going on.”

“You should all get your phones by the end of this week and Beth can help you set them up; it will be easier to keep in contact then. We can call and text and email.” Olle looks down at his watch before leaving a tip for housekeeping then grabbing his bags. 

Gabriel looks a little lost standing by the table where the room service tray still sits. Olle drops his bags in the middle of the floor to go take the angel in his arms. Olle wraps his arms around the angel's waist and pulls them tight together. Like he had in the shower, Gabriel uses his Grace to make their staggering height difference negligible so he can wrap his arms around the big man's shoulders and tuck their foreheads together. “Your cab is gonna be here in about five minutes,” Gabriel says.

“I know,” Olle says not letting go, “but you looked like you needed a hug.” Gabriel laughs around trying not to cry and adjusts their height difference so Olle has to lean forward to keep their foreheads touching. Olle runs his hands up Gabriel's back to card through his hair and Gabriel moves his hands down Olle's chest to wrap around his waist. Olle plants a kiss to the top of his head before saying, “You'll know where to find me and it will be a week or so, at least, before Sam and Dean get involved; you can pop in whenever you want to.”

“Don't miss your flight,” Gabriel says letting him go and when Olle turns back around from picking up his luggage the angel, and the full bottle of wine left on the tray, are gone.


	10. Chapter 10

Olle's flight back to Kansas City is uneventful and, by nine-thirty, he finds himself back in his own apartment for the first time in almost two months. When he first moved to Kansas City, Olle bought a house, for privacy's sake. However, security modifications were needed to ensure the safety of the library, weapons, and artifacts he brought with him and having the apartment was practical as well as tactical; no one he knew at work had any idea he owned a house and no one he knew in the hunting community had any idea he was also a doctor. He realized, as he was pulling out clothes to change into before he went to the hospital this afternoon, he probably should have gone home instead of here; because Beth had the Jag and his motorcycle, a Harley-Davidson panhead he bought in 1949 and had rebuilt in the 70's, and again in 2006 to accommodate his towering height, was there. He shook his head picking up the phone by the bed, what was the point of living in a luxury apartment if you didn't avail yourself of the perks, he thought, before calling down to the concierge to let them know what time he needed to be at work, that he needed a taxi, and to please text him when it arrived. Then he stripped down to his boxer-briefs, dumped the two necessary envelopes out of the satchel onto his bed, and started to read. When his phone chirped at 11:40 he had packed up his reading, unpacked his suitcase, changed clothes, loaded his weapons into the satchel and was ready to go. 

During his cab ride to the hospital, Olle sent off a silent prayer to Gabriel. “Hey Gabe, just letting you know my flight was uneventful and I've had a chance to check out all that information. The nest is pretty big, 15-20 vamps, so I'm gonna call Mike and see if I can get an intro with the boys soon but, I'm sorry to say, these vamps are already making waves no one's picked up on yet. Gideon's got the body count up to almost 30 moving from San Francisco to Omaha and they should be here, if not already, soon. Let Beth know, please, and make her let you check your email so we can talk strategy.” He laughs, “And, especially, Gabe, thanks for last night and this morning. I needed to remember this life isn't all pain and blood and bodies and Balrog's and Holy Fire. You did that, and I hope it reminded you as well.”

St. Luke's was a Level 1 Trauma Center and he choose this hospital because it was one he could, reasonably, be considered willing to pack up and leave Finland for while also being in closest proximity to the Men of Letters' Bunker. His sabbatical for the past six weeks was due to an accident suffered while working with Doctor's Without Boarders in the Congo, needless to say, when a building exploded, then fell on him, everyone thought he was dead; when he wasn't, they sent him home and the hospital was more than willing to give him some time to recuperate. 

That 'accident' was when he regained full memory of who he was and what happened to him; that was when Beth became his alter ego. Finding her waiting for him at the house when he returned had been a not unexpected, however odd, experience but, thanks to the Winchesters, there was too much work to do for either of them to really dwell on it; much. 

The mountain of work waiting for him when he sat down at his desk let him know, quickly, he would have to return to work, at least part-time, or give up his job entirely. Like clockwork, there was a knock at his door at a quarter til two and he was meeting with hospital administrators and the chief of staff to discuss just that. Having not eaten since the previous night, he was grateful for lunch at Beer Kitchen but it did not make what he had to do any easier. He wanted, there's that word again, he thought to himself, to stay, he really did. So, he decided he would, until the end of summer; which gave him, and the hospital, almost four months to come to terms with it as well as find a replacement. He had a pretty good idea who he would recommend, though, so that was him half done already; he just had to be willing to leave this life he had lived for almost thirty-seven years and go back to the one he had lived always. Sexy times with a near insatiable archangel not withstanding, he was so very, very tired of killing and bleeding and dying; but there was work to do, on both fronts, and he set down at his desk to get started.

After hours of paper work, test results, charts, OR scheduling, emails, phone conversations, and referrals, Olle glanced down at his watch and noticed it was almost midnight. He stretched across the back of his desk chair before sitting back up to organize his desk so he could leave for the day. On his way to the elevators, Olle realized he had not eaten since this afternoon, so he left the hospital through the ambulance bay and started walking toward Town Topic on Broadway Street. Offering a silent thanks to 24 hour diners everywhere and this one in particular; he was well fed and on his way back to his apartment with a large To Go hot chocolate by one thirty. 

Setting the alarm on his phone for ten that morning, he plugged it up in the kitchen, attached to his speakers so he would definitely hear it, then stripped his clothes off and fell into bed by two-thirty. Like all warriors, like all hunters, and as one of only three living men who had seen the other side of Hell and Purgatory, his dreams that night were coated in fire and blood and torment; some of it taken but, as is the way with any nightmare, the true horror was in the giving. Too exhausted to claw his way out of his dreams on his own, Olle jerked awake panting when his alarm sounded; his sheets were soaked through with sweat and he was shaking all over. He forced himself to lay there and listen to the alarm while he caught his breath and calmed his nerves, then he made his way to the kitchen and turned off the alarm before stumbling back through the bedroom into a hot shower. There was still no food in the apartment so he grabbed his now ever present satchel and walked to Starbucks; while he ate, he ordered an Uber driver to take him out to his house in Mission Hills. 

He has about an hour before he has to be back at the hospital so he goes through the iron fence into the house and up the steps in the entryway, and downstairs into the armory to unload his weapons. That done, he goes back upstairs where every room on the main floor, except the kitchen and sunroom, is now a library of some kind, to drop his information packets on the large mahogany desk before running upstairs to his private Office where he stashes away the money, and Michael's Grace, in a hidden safe. He goes back downstairs and starts for the door to the two car garage before he decides, since it will need to become habit once again, to go back downstairs to the armory and arm himself with various small knives, lockpicks, and his Taurus in a belt holster with extra ammunition as well. On his way to the garage he remembers to grab his leather jacket; it belonged to his father in Finland and every time he puts it on he is surprised it fits, him having no actual connection to the man except through adoption. He opens the garage door and rolls the bike out into the driveway before zipping up his jacket, putting his helmet on, and starting the engine. 

When he gets to the hospital, he parks in the visitor parking deck instead of his assigned spot, so there is less chance anyone connects him to the house or the bike or hunting. As he walks into the main entrance of the hospital, he is proud of how paranoid he is already starting to get, once again. 

The next three days are a blur where Olle disappears and there is only Dr. Mikhail Wallander. By three in the morning, on the fourth day since he left Chicago, Olle is able to climb back onto his bike and head for the house in Mission Hills; where he hopes to sleep more than just a couple hours in a too small on-call bed and shower in his heated tile, walk-in shower instead of an open stall in the surgical locker room and actually put on clean clothes that are not surgical scrubs. Half-way up the steps in the parking deck he remembers there is still no food at either of his homes and he is, once again, starving; he points his bike away from home to the 24 hour Mexican restaurant just five minutes away. Pancho's was fantastic, authentic Mexican food and they started serving breakfast at midnight so Olle enjoyed his chicken burrito and queso blanco before grabbing 4 Machaca con Huevos burritos To Go and heading back to Mission Hills. 

Throwing his bag of burritos in the refrigerator on his way through the kitchen, Olle doesn't stop until he is leaned against a warm tile wall while his rain shower pours nearly pure hot water down on him. As Olle slides into his soft, warm, California King-sized bed he is more than a little impressed with his own use of magick because, despite how long he has been away and the fact that the entire house is full of books, some so old they are magickally protected from deterioration themselves, the house is clean, warm, fresh smelling, and dust free. He intends to work on altering the spells of protection and warding around the house to allow him to move, not only the angels, but Linda and Kevin, here as well; for safety's sake if nothing else. He has the whole day off tomorrow and, he thinks, after he wakes naturally, he'll get right on that.


	11. Chapter 11

Waking naturally does not happen until almost noon, and Olle does nearly two hours of yoga to help wake and energize him as well as lengthen and relax overworked, tense muscles. He thinks, briefly, of going for a jog but, noticing it is almost two in the afternoon, he showers again and pulls on underwear and a pair of basketball shorts to move around the house. He finds his phone, wallet, all his weapons, and the clothes he left the house in days ago all tucked safely away in his saddle bags on his bike. He tucks his wallet in his pocket, brings his phone in and plugs it up because it is dead, throws his foil wrapped food in the oven, takes his weapons downstairs to put them away, and throws his dirty clothes on top of the washing machine before sitting down at his desk to open up the laptop that stays there. He checks his email to discover Beth and Gabriel have both sent him messages, thankfully nothing serious, just general checking-in. He moves some money around, making sure all his active accounts are well funded and his bills are paid, before bringing his food to the desk and starting to look through his file archives for the proper book to alter his ghost and angel warding and, thereby, allow Kevin and the angels admittance to the house. As he finishes his burritos, chasing them with water since that is all he has, his phone rings.

 

“Hello,” he says washing the last of his burrito down with water.

 

“Beth said to ask if you knew how to paint it black,” Gabriel says seriously.

 

“Tell her the next time I see her I'm going to spank her for her insolence,” he laughs.

 

“Right,” the angel snarks, “like that would be punishment for either of you.”

 

Olle just chuckles. “How's it going?” he asks getting up to pull a couple possibly helpful tomes from the shelves.

 

“Better than I could have hope, though still very quiet,” Gabriel says obviously talking about Lucifer. “Baz has managed to not move from his spot on the couch, in front of the TV, since you left, Kevin has taken to only haunting the dining room, where Beth now lives, and Linda really just ignores us all.”

 

“Do me a favor, it could hurt, I'm at 1256 West 62nd Street in Kansas City, MO, try popping in right now.”

 

“'K,” he says before immediately going on with, “Son of a bitch! Could hurt?”

 

“Where are you?”

 

“It was like hitting a brick wall! It blew me straight back to where I was.”

 

“Okay, focus on me and just try to get to me,” Olle says testing a few theories.

 

“I can't even sense you anywhere,” Gabriel says after a few seconds. “Where are you?”

 

“My house,” Olle says sitting down with his books and, pushing the laptop out of the way, opening them up to skim while he talks. “I know none of this is useful,” he mumbles to himself, “but I made up the warding so I just need to make a key and add you all to the lock.”

 

“You,” Gabriel says, “invented new magick?”

 

“My mother was a witch, a powerful natural witch, I've got the juice; I just don't use it.” Olle says finding what he was looking for. “Here! Try 1258, it's the house next door and I'll meet you in the street.” Olle hangs up and, when he comes out the front door, Gabriel is standing in front of the house next door waiting for him.

 

Gabriel can't even seen him until he walks out the front gate and onto the sidewalk. He whistles, “That is some pretty impressive mojo you got going on! Did you know I couldn't see you 'til you hit the sidewalk and I can't even see the house or where it is supposed to be?”

 

“Good,” Olle says. “That means the warding actually works, I'd never tested it before.” He takes the angel's hand and walks him through the gate, up the walk, and into the house.

 

“You stole this from Harry Potter, didn't you?” he asks incredulous. “Come on! Who's your Secret Keeper?”

 

“I'm glad you're putting the Kindle to good use,” Olle says going back to his desk to grab the book he was referencing. Gabriel just shrugs and Olle feels compelled, for sympathy's sake, to say, “The scene in the movie where Grimauld Place slides into being is kinda where my inspiration came from.” He chuckles when Gabriel laughs out right. “Now, do you honestly swear you're up to no good?”

 

“Always,” the angel says with a grin that is all Loki.

  
“Good!” Olle leads him through the sun room, into the backyard, to sit at a large teak dinning table, much bigger than the round one Linda has on her patio. In the center of the table, where the umbrella should go, is a very old iron torch and, in the cage where the hot coals should go, is a large polished sphere of malachite. He pulls the torch out of the ground, pouring the stone into his hand, and stakes it between him and Gabriel near the end of the table. “Now,” he says looking at Gabriel, “use the top of the torch to prick your palm then put your palm on the malachite and, in your true voice, say your true name.”

 

“That's gonna hurt you,” Gabriel says. “Isn't it?”

  
“It's been so long since I've heard any of you speak with your true voice, I don't know.” Olle says honestly. They are both pleasantly surprised when Olle's ears do not bleed and he can hear and understand what Gabriel is saying. “Perfect,” Olle says. “Now, try leaving, you can go anywhere but try leaving and coming back. If you get bounced back again call me.”

 

Gabriel vanishes and, a few seconds later, comes right back. “It worked!” the angel says with a shout. “What are you going to do now?”

 

“I can add Baz and Luce, Beth is keyed into it because she is me, and I've never had trouble with humans finding the place so Linda should be fine but I'll key her in anyway. The only problem,” Olle says.

 

“Is Kevin,” Gabriel finishes and Olle shakes his head. “What if we just brought the ring, shouldn't he tag along and everything be fine? Like when you brought me inside?”

 

“I built the wards and protections to keep things out but several of the objects I brought with me were cursed and, when I started moving the last of everything into the house, after I sat up the wards, they wouldn't come inside; just kept appearing stacked on the sidewalk, outside of the fence.”

 

“What'd you do with 'em?” Gabriel asks.

 

“I have a storage unit where I put all of them and then I did the warding after everything was inside.”

 

“Doing this would mean Linda and Kevin would be safe, as safe as anyone, for now, but...”

 

Gabriel cuts him off, “Beth needs Kevin for the hacking, Linda needs Kevin for the being sane, Kevin needs me for the not going poltergeist.”

 

“Exactly,” Olle says.

 

While they spoke Olle put the torch and malachite back where they were and lead Gabriel back inside. Dropping into an oversize winged backed chair by the fire place in what would be the family room he gestures to the one opposite for Gabriel, who follows suit.

 

“Does the whole house,” Gabriel asks flopping into his chair, “look like this?” He gestures around at the shelves and books along every wall and six foot shelves pressed back to back along the middle of the room, the long library tables with lamps, and the leather furniture.

 

“The living room is more an actual office, I have a desk, and the dining room has these great built-ins so I use it more as an apothecary cabinet. The kitchen and the sun room are used for their intended purpose, the sun room is kinda a greenhouse, and all the bedroom are bedrooms. The finished basement is an armory and training area and the attic is a home theater and I have a pool table. The garage is a garage; there are tools to fix the car and a lawn mower and a weedeater and the outbuilding is full of chair cushions and water hoses and the umbrella for the table.”

 

Gabriel laughs, “You have always had the strangest nesting habits of any human. That is why the Men of Letter's Bunker is so ridiculously huge; you couldn't stop trying for Hogwarts! And the books hadn't even been written yet!”

  
“Forgive me,” Olle says sarcastically, “for having gotten used to a labyrinthine existence. Think of some of the lives I've lead and tell me, Gandalf, how Sauron is supposed to be satisfied with less than exactly what he wants!”

  
“How did we even know sanctified blood would work?” Gabriel asks laughing before he stops with a sigh. “I never should have let him give you the Mark,” he says quietly.

  
“I just hate we had to give it back to him.” Gabriel nods. “Dean didn't want to do it, I was almost convinced he hadn't, but I watched Crowley salt and burn the body myself.” Olle rubs his hand through the hair on his chest and scratches across the yggdrasil on his right side before getting up. “He didn't fade away the way demons do when they die, you know,” Olle says leading Gabriel into the kitchen.

 

“You think he and Able finally got to be together?” Gabriel asks curious, but, somehow, not surprised.

  
“Mysterious ways, remember?” is all Olle says.

 

Gabriel shrugs. “I finished the Supernatural books; I didn't realize Sam and Dean were soulmates. How did I miss that?”

 

“I'm pretty sure they don't even get it,” Olle says getting a glass of water. “They had to be, just like their grandfathers were, just like your brothers were.” Olle's tone changes to something soft and quiet, “That is a lot, a lot a lot, of what his problem is right now. How would you feel if you had no other choice but to watch Creation burn or smite...”

 

“Don't,” Gabriel says desperately, “don't say his name.” He looks up at Olle terrified, “Not like that, don't say his name, please.” Before Olle can apologize Gabriel is gone and he feels like a dust mote under a fairy's thumb because he knew Gabriel could never get back what he lost during the First War.

 

He prays, silently, “Gabriel, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. He's right there, you can go to him; make him remember. He wouldn't reject you; not after everything you've both been through. We could deal with the fallout; it wouldn't matter.”

 

His phone chirps, a text message: _What books have you been reading because even I ship that!_

 

Olle laughed and replied back: _Alright, but if you ship that then I ship the addition of the only other logical pairing!_

 

_You just think I have a height kink!_

 

_I am pretty sure you do, or was that some other angel letting me fuck him against the shower wall a few days ago then hanging on me like a monkey while I bathed him?_

 

_I am never having sex with you again, EVER! :p_

 

Olle laughed letting the conversation die right there having, he thought, proved his point.


	12. Chapter 12

Olle changed into boots, jeans and a t-shirt before slipping on his leather jacket and going grocery shopping. He spent the rest of the day trying to figure out a way to key Kevin's ghost into the wards, but he had yet to come up with anything. He stopped thinking about it after he got back from the grocery store and decided to work on the vampire's nest moving into the city. He had a pretty good idea what type of 'people' this nest was made of and understood why Gideon wanted nothing to do with them; they were brash and blatant and not at all willing to compromise their blood lust for caution. It was a wonder, he thought, another group of hunters hadn't done away with them already. His best bet, he figured, was every shitty dive bar in Kansas City; since that was where their victim pool seemed to come from in every major city they'd hit between San Francisco and Omaha. He really didn't feel up to going out tonight but Googled local bars while he tired to console himself with the thought of getting to kill something soon. 

When Olle rolled into bed at four in the morning he cautioned himself with the reminder this could take a while. Nevertheless, he decided he would hit one new bar every night until he found what he was looking for or until bodies started showing up. Then he'd call Mike to get an introduction to Sam and Dean and, in the mean time, hope the Darkness didn't swallow Creation whole. None of this was incentive for peaceful sleep but, he reminded himself, he was starting to see patients tomorrow so he needed the rest. 

For nearly a month Olle's days ran together. He would go to work at the hospital, go to a bar at night to search for vampires, then repeat the process. On the bright side, he had gotten the hospital board to agree on his chosen replacement and approve the pro-Bono work he wanted to do in conjunction with the Veteran's Hospital. He kept a eye out for any signs of vampire kills, also, and had yet to find a single one. He was beginning to think, maybe, Gideon gave him the shaft or Margo and Hiryoku were cahooting with the vamps to pull one over on him and/or Gideon. 

**

It is Friday night and this place, Buzzard Beach, is the piss-stinkingest shit-hole he'd been in yet, where the bouncers were as likely to start a fight as stop one, and the bartenders laugh when you ask about the smell. He sat in a far corner trying to look less imposing than he always seemed to, and a lot less imposing than he really is, while he collects empty bottles of Stella Artois without ordering more than two for himself. He tried to make himself an easy target. He showed up in a cab, alone, was a little too well dressed to be there, laying on the Finnish accent thick so everyone thought he was a tourist; all the while seeming to rack up the drinks and slump further and further down in his booth. By one o'clock, he had pretty much decided: Fuck the vampires! Tomorrow he was going to Missie B's because he needed a drag show and shot boys and their leather lounge was open until two! Which, of course, meant three very attractive, and very undead looking, women piled into his booth at that moment. He groaned internally at his luck and pressed his back into the booth to feel the pressure of the machete he had strapped underneath his jacket before pasting on a sloshed-looking grin and using broken English to find out their names and give them his; Thore, so could lean into them and let them know the 'h' was silent while he got a little handsy for good measure. When he realized he did not, in fact, have a plan that did not involve killing these three and, possibly, chasing away the rest of the nest he called out a silent prayer, “Gabriel, I think I'm about to get eaten by vampires. I'll be out of commission for a couple days, just so you know. I could kill them but I need to know more about the nest so I'm going to go with it.”

His phone chirps just as he finishes his prayer and, after some false fumbling, he sees it is Gabriel so he checks the text: Did you know you were praying in Finnish? The archangel wrote in Finnish so Olle responds in Finnish: Had no idea but you just gave me an idea, call me right now!

When his phone rings, he answers in Finnish, slurring slightly to keep up the ruse, “I have been trolling these shitholes for weeks and now, right when I decided to give it up for the weekend, these three sit down.”

Gabriel laughs before responding, also in Finnish, “What do you want me to do about it?”

“I just need to tell them I just talked to my friends and try to get them not to eat me tonight in favor of possibly eating me and my friends tomorrow.”

“Glad I could help,” the angel says before they hang up.

Olle puts his phone down and turns to the vampires, “My friends,” he slurs gesturing to his phone, “would really like to meet you.”

“Oh really,” the blond beside him says playing with his arm. “How many friends do you have?”

“Oh, I have a lotta friends,” he grins shaking his head back and forth to stare between them.

“So do we honey,” the short red-head across from him says running her foot up his leg to fondle his crotch.

“Yeah,” he grins, laughing, and turns up his drink to drain the last of the bottle. “They're in Lawrence until Monday, but it would be great if we could all get together then!” Olle leans into the blond at his side, drapes his arm around her shoulders and runs his index finger along her jaw. He can smell stale blood on her breath and hates what he is about to do, but licks, sloppily, into her mouth before saying, “My buddies are gonna really like you and your friends.”

“Monday, huh?” the brunette beside the redhead says. “How many friends do you have?”

“I was going on a cross country motorcycle tour with my battalion,” he says. “We all made it back from Afghanistan alive so, every year, all 12 of us pack up our bikes and see a new country.”

“Twelve,” the red head says, “and they'll be here on Monday?”

“Yep, my brother got married last week so I missed the first leg of our trip and they're meeting me here.”

“Oh,” the blond says, “we're gonna show you and your friends the time of your life!” Olle grins, thankful his half-baked plan is working.

“But not here,” the red-head says and the other two nod. “We've got our own place we like to party, isn't that right girls?”

They all nod and laugh before the brunette says, “You meet us,” she digs in her bag for a pen, “here,” she scribbles an address on Olle's hand, “at eight o'clock Monday night and we'll blow your mind!” she says lasciviously. 

**

Without another word, the three women get up and leave the bar. Olle throws some money on the table and gets up to follow them. Once he is in the parking lot, Olle watches the vampires get into a blue Civic and pretends to be doubled over by the edge of the grass vomiting when they drive by so he can get a good look at the license plate. He figures to car is stolen but it doesn't matter, he goes to the back of the lot where he parked his truck this afternoon and follows them South, away from the city. He follows, usually about four cars behind them, until they leave the city and continue South; once traffic thins out, he keeps a moderate pace until they turn onto East Red Bridge Road where he passes them, but keeps them in his sight until they turn toward camping and hiking trails of the Blue River Parkway. 

Olle takes Red Bridge back to Interstate 49 to head North, back into the city, pulling a burner phone out of his console, and calls Mike on his way. The phone rings a couple times before the gruff voice of a black man in his early 50's answers, “Hello,”

“Hey Mike, this is Oliver Davis, long time so see, man, how are you?”

“Oliver Davis, damn man, I thought you were dead!” Mike laughs, he sounds glad to hear from him.

Olle laughs, “No, I've been in Europe the past couple years.”

Mike sounds serious, “If it's as bad there as it has been here, I feel for you kid. What are you doin' now?”

“I need some help here Mike, I'm in Kansas City. I've been tracking this huge nest of vamps from San Francisco, I got a count of at least 15, and I know Bobby was always trying to get me to meet Sam and Dean Winchester; I heard they were based pretty close to here now and I'm looking for some backup. You think you could get an intro for me?”

“Yeah Oliver, I could do that. It'd do Bobby's heart good to know y'all were finally gonna meet. He said you were the best hunter he'd seen 'sides those two boys, and I'd have to agree. Let me give you Sam's number, then I'll give him a call first thing.”

“That'd be great Mike, thanks man.” Olle remembers the number, gets off the phone quick, apologizing for how late it was, and enjoys the rest of his trip in silence.

Back home, Olle peals out of his clothes as quickly as possible to get in the shower. He gargles then brushes his teeth twice, because he can still taste the putrid inside of the vampires mouth, and tests the limits of even a tankless hot water heater to get the disgusting feeling of that dive bar and those three vamps off his skin. As he settles down in bed, his clock informs him it is nearly four in the morning and he groans, setting the alarm for eight, then rolls over on his stomach to sleep.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY, huh? Took me long enough to get to Sam and Dean didn't it?

When his alarm goes off Olle is tempted to roll over and go back to sleep but, after doing three of six pro-Bono surgeries this week, he has to see patients today. After a jog, and some yoga, Olle showers, gets dressed, and is sitting at the kitchen island eating a bagel when his burner phone rings and Sam Winchester is on the other end. 

“Hello,” he says around a mouth full of lox.

“Oliver Davis?” a deep voice says, “This is Sam Winchester. I spoke to Mike Vance this morning and he gave me your number; said you needed our kinda help.”

“Sam Winchester, I'll be damned.” Olle laughs and thinks, FINALLY, before going on, “I knew Bobby Singer, he always wanted us to meet, but I was never in the right place at the right time. I got a vampire problem in Kansas City. I was hoping you and your brother could help me out with it.”

“Kansas City, huh,” Sam says like he is weighing his options. “That's about six hours from where we are now, we could be there tomorrow morning.”

“I was, actually,” Olle lies, “headed your way this afternoon. I got a couple stops I gotta make first, shouldn't take more'n a few hours each. I should be there by nine-thirty, maybe ten o'clock; is there somewhere we could meet. I don't mean to sound ungrateful or anything but you boys aren't known for going anywhere quiet and you're name travels miles in front of you. I need help, I need your help, but I'd like to see who I'm dealing with before I go trusting my life to you.”

“Yeah,” Sam sighs, “that's fair. West on 36 there's a town, Smith Center, Pooches Bar & Grill on North Main; ten is fine.”

“Awesome,” Olle says hanging up and popping the last of his bagel in his mouth. He doesn't get to hear Sam chuckle at how much the guy on the other end of the line just sounded like his brother.

Olle downs the rest of his coffee before double checking the truck's armory and having a quick shower. He puts on a beige suit, sky blue shirt, and navy tie then slips on his brown shoes before grabbing a bag so he can change at the hospital. He can't dress like a hunter to see patients and he can't meet hunters dressed like a doctor so he grabs his kit off the bathroom sink and throws his boots, sneakers, a couple pair of jeans, underwear, and a few t-shirts in the bag. On his way to the garage he pulls his leather jacket, a denim jacket, and a plaid over shirt out of the coat closet and stuffs them in the bag as well; remembering it is hard to hide weapons wearing just a t-shirt. He throws his bag in the backseat of the truck before going back inside to grab some cash out of the safe and the envelopes of research Gideon gave him that he intends to pass off as his own.

Once he got to the hospital, it took him less than two hours to do his rounds and, after a quick lunch at Pancho's, he headed back out to scout that address the girl gave him last night. By three, he's sneaking through the woods along the Blue River and he finds an abandoned farmhouse in Saeger Woods. He goes as quietly as possible up to the house, wishing to all Hell he had brought his crossbow out of the truck, and uses his phone to snap images of the house and grounds before venturing closer. He looks through every window on the ground floor before scaling the front porch roof and checking the upstairs; he counts at least 16 vamps and the kitchen is full of bodies, some of which could still be alive but he can't be certain. 

Back in his truck, he is on the road to Pooches Bar by four-thirty. Olle normally loved driving long distances alone, but he hadn't talked to Gabriel about what was going on yet so he used the bluetooth and voice command on his steering wheel to call the angel. 

Beth's voice, however, rang through his speakers, “Hello.”

“Hey girl,” he said with a smile, glad to hear her voice after nearly two weeks without talking to her and over a month since he lat saw her. 

“Did you know he has you listed in his contacts as 'shower caddy'?” she asked confused. 

Olle roars laughing, “I had no idea but his name is now officially changing to Dick in my contacts! How is everything?”

“Oh,” she says thinking, “we're doing okay. They are training right now, Gabe and Baz, Luce is watching; we're all watching. We'd forgotten to remember how beautiful they are in battle.”

“Luce not training?” 

“He's doing well, Olle, but he's not there yet. He's reading everything he can get his hands on,” she says.

“Yeah, I get the bank statements with Amazon written all over them,” he say sarcastically. “How are the rest of them? How are you? Has Balthazar,” he starts quizzically.

“No,” she cuts him off swiftly, “not since that first time. I think Gabriel may have talked to him. They've been spending a lot of time together. They'll just watch TV or train or sit and talk; they are both doing well, really well,” she says happily. 

“But Luce, he's doing...how?” he asks.

“He's still quiet, very quiet, and timid about things, but he's asking questions about what he's reading and what's going on around him. He's learning things, the internet and how to use his phone. Kevin has been doing great with him. He's getting there much more quickly than expected considering none of us are grief counselors or therapists.” She stops talking to him for a minute to call out to Gabriel and Balthazar as they spar but comes back laughing, “They are just beautiful! I wish I could Skype with you or record it and send it to you but I doubt the camera could follow them the way we can.”

“I'm sure I'll get to see it,” Olle says hoping it is a demonstration and not actual battle when he does. “Look,” he gets serious, “I'm calling to let you all know I'm on my way to Lebanon to meet the boys.”

“Gabriel told me you'd found the nest last night. How'd it go talking to them?”

“I talked to Sam,” Olle says. “Beautiful voice, deep and soft,” Olle says wistfully.

“So he drips sex,” Beth says matter-of-factly.

Olle laughs, “We know what he sounds like, but fuck if the real thing isn't a damn sight better! Dean's voice may make me cum!” Beth laughs with him for a moment before he goes on, “I wanted to meet them somewhere they felt they had the upper hand. Sam sounded like any paranoid hunter at the prospect of meeting new hunters but he also sounded willing to listen and willing to help.”

“So it may not be that bad,” Beth says encouraged. “How bad is the nest? Can the three of you take it easy?”

“I was out there this morning, sixteen vamps at least, I'd love to have you with me, but that's, what, six each for me and Dean and four for Sam. He doesn't have the Mark anymore but he's still Purgatory hardened and Sam is supposed to be a machine; I'm not worried.”

“Do you have dead man's blood?” Beth asks.

“I do,” Olle says, “I grabbed some from a woman who died in childbirth last week. I was lucky enough to grab the suction tank as it was being taken for cleaning; so many people forget how easy it is for a woman to die giving birth. I feel bad about it.” It was true, he felt sorry for the woman's wife and their twin sons who will never know their birth mother, and he felt bad about stealing from his hospital. 

“You know as well a I do,” Beth says seriously, “that, on average, nearly 62 women die every month during childbirth in this country. It's sad, especially here, especially since more underdeveloped countries have better maternity mortality but it's nothing like it was once. Things are getting better again.”

Olle shakes his head, “I know.” He wants to change the subject, quickly, so he asks, “How's it coming bringing the guys back from the dead?”

“Oh,” Beth says excited, “we're doing really well. Kevin has taught me so, so much!”

“Great,” Olle says. “Any way you can legit me up some ID as Oliver Michael Davis?”

“The guy Bobby thought we were? Yeah, sure,” she says. “What do you want? The works? Driver's license, passport, birth certificate, voter registration, credit cards, FBI, CIA, Homeland Security, etc.? It'll take me about a week but I'll mail it to you.”

“Awesome,” Olle says. “Had any luck making yourself up as you go along?”

Beth laughs, “I got all my shit in one sock last week! I should start getting all my stuff in the mail next week.”

“So,” Olle asks, “who are you then?”

“My name is Bethany Morgan and my birthday is May 17th, 1990. I was raised in Charleston and I graduated from the Le Cordon Blue in Paris.” Beth says.

“Impressive,” Olle says.

“Yeah, well, let's hope I remember how it all works fucking quickly; I got a job yesterday and I start Monday as a sous chef.”

“What?” Olle asks.

“I was bored. Linda is at work all day, the guys pretty much take care of themselves, and I can soak information up like a sponge, but I was going stir crazy! It's only for the summer,” she says defensively. 

“That's all you,” Olle says. “Just don't neglect to remember you need to be out there training too!”

“I know! As a matter of fact,” she says, “I'm up next! So, you wanna talk to Baz or what?”

“Just tell Gabriel what's going on and that I'll call him after. Let everyone know I was checking-in. I'll talk to you later.” 

Olle disconnects the call and turns on the radio, finding an 80's hits station. The rest of the drive is filled with contemplated scenarios about the end of this journey, both short and long term, and he is worried when he parks outside the bar at ten 'til nine. He reminds himself, as he cuts off the truck and checks his person for all appropriate knives, picks, and other tools before deciding not to take his Taurus in with him, that if he gets this wrong, in any way, there will be no going back; he'll just have to move forward and try to make it work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More of our favorite hunters to come!


	14. Chapter 14

Baby was nowhere to be seen outside so Olle is surprised to find Dean at one of the pool tables, obviously, hustling a kid who has to be barely legal while his friends watch. Sam, he notices, is at a table in the back watching while he nurses a beer. Olle goes up to the bar, gets a beer, then drifts, casually, toward the game. He watches for a while before interrupting between shots to ask, “Double or nothing with whoever wins?” By now, there is no way Dean is coming out of this without all of those kids' money, so he looks Olle up and down, slowly, before he nods; Olle grins and sits his beer and the satchel on a table close by.

Olle comes out victorious and Dean blanches when he immediately gives the kid back all the money he lost. “Don't go around playing with other peoples money, kid, until you know you can win,” Olle says throwing down half of what Dean just lost to him and walking up to the bar to order a round before making his way back to the brothers' table.

Olle stops at the edge of their table and says, “You're Dean and Sam, right?” He turns a chair around to straddle before saying, “I'm Olle, we spoke on the phone earlier today.” They shake hands and he slings the satchel across the back of the chair in front of him before settling in his seat as the waitress comes over with their drinks; Olle orders loaded chili cheese fries because it looks like the two of them have already eaten. 

“You're Oliver Davis?” Sam asks.

“Yeah,” he says taking a pull on his bottle. He is wearing a dark wash, straight leg jean with his black boots and a Zeppelin t-shirt from a concert in Japan in 1971; he found it in a trunk in the back of one of his storage units in 2009. He keeps his hair cut exactly like Dean's, only shorter, and you can see nervous sweat building up on his scalp. His hazel eyes are dancing between the two of them waiting for any response while the waitress sits his food down and he orders another round.

“So,” Dean says curious and incredulous, “you thought the best way to introduce yourself was to take me for the money I just won off those kids, plus another eight hundred of my own, and, adding insult to injury here, you gave the kids their money back!”

“That was shooting fish in a barrel, and you know it,” Olle says licking chili off his fingers before diving into his pocket. “You want your eight hundred back? It could have just as easily gone the other way and I'd've been out of pocket.” He throws Dean's money in the center of the table and stares at him like he is scolding a five year old for throwing a fit and Sam laughs; that is when he knows he is okay, that is when he relaxes a little and starts to taste his food.

“Come on Dean,” Sam says, placating his brother, and hands Olle back his winnings. Dean grins at his brother and shakes his head before tossing back his beer and Olle shoves the cash back in his pocket before he continues eating.

Olle can't get over how absolutely breathtaking the two of them are up close; both beautiful and undeniably sexy but, more than that, comfortable in there own skin, confident and sure in their movements, and relaxed while still being taunt, shrewdly observant, and ready to strike at a moments notice. Not just hunters, warriors, and he has a little bit of hope, after so long denying its very existence, that everything will work out okay.

“So, you've got a vampire problem,” Dean says after the waitress brings their third round.

“Yeah,” Olle says shoving his plate into the center of the table and gesturing between the two of them, Sam shakes his head but Dean pulls the plate over in front of himself. “I've been tracking this nest since San Francisco,” he says pulling the two envelopes out and laying them on the table; they each pick one and look through it while Olle keeps talking. “They've been hitting major cities every couple of months, always taking people at shithole bars or clubs and the body count has to be near 30 but there are also missing persons around the same time too. I took the time to scout the nest,” he pulls out his phone and hands them the pictures he took this afternoon, “and it's at least 16 vamps, but it could be more if they've been adding to it like I suspect they have,” Olle says tipping his beer up.

“Why haven't you been picking them off a few at a time?” Sam asks.

“Taking them out a few at a time is great, but what if they go underground or scatter? I could lose them or, worse, end up with 16 new nests out there doing the exact same thing.” Olle leans in and goes on, “I finally, finally, got ahead of them in Kansas City and I'd been checking every dive in the city until I found them! The lures go out and bring back food, or whatever, and I convinced them I had a group of friends coming to town Monday who wanted to party. They absolutely ate up the idea of twelve strangers no one would know to even miss for a while and gave me an address and a time to meet them Monday evening. That's where the nest is.”

“It must be a huge nest if you're right and they're confident enough to not worry about taking out that many people,” Sam says. 

“I followed them to a hiking area last night when they left the bar. I didn't get too close because they turned off onto a semi-private road,” Olle says.

“And you called Mike, played the Bobby card, and got a meet-n-greet,” Dean says.

“I met Bobby in 05, when I got back form Afghanistan,” Olle says seriously. “He'd've told you, he met Einar in Vietnam. He was a hunter, and when he looked Bobby up in the 70's, and found out Bobby was in the life, they were friends 'til Einar died.” Olle shakes his head at all the half-truths and takes another drink. “When I got out of the military, I had nobody, so I went to Bobby. Always wanted us to meet, but we were never in the right place at the right time to make that happen.”

“You were raised in the life?” Sam asks.

“I wasn't. I'm a doctor and a soldier.” Olle doesn't want to lie to them more than he has to. “I immigrated to the States after I got out of the military, because I had no family and I liked it here when I did my residency. I'm a citizen now and I work at St. Luke's Hospital in Kansas City; I'm the director of their Level 1 Trauma Center and a neuro-vascular surgeon.”

“What's your real name?” Dean asks.

“Mikhail Wallander,” Olle responds right away, “Google me, you'll see I'm not lying.” Sam does just that and finds his Facebook account, his information from Doctor's Without Boards, his profile on the St. Luke's website, his registry with the AMA, and information about his military service.

“You have your own Wikipedia page,” Dean says looking up from what Sam was showing him.

“That wasn't my idea,” Olle says, shy, because it really wasn't; he hated it. “The Finnish government was so proud of my accomplishments and the feather in their hat I became when I saved those Seals and didn't die after being taken hostage twice.”

“This reads,” Sam says incredulous, “like Sheldon Cooper and Rambo had a baby. Were you really a doctor by the time you were 14?”

“I have an IQ that is unquantifiable,” Olle says, “I speak too many languages and dialects to count, not including dead languages, and I have advanced training and certification in several different forms of martial arts, hand to hand combat, and short and long range weapons and tactics. I have experience in combat medicine, including surgery, among others; I believe the AMA lists my medical certifications and qualifications.”

“If you're so fucking brilliant,” Dean asks, “why do you need our help?”

“I didn't come here to flaunt my intelligence or experience,” Olle says passionately. “I am only human and, I hope, intelligent enough to realize when I need more experienced help and, dare I say it, back-up.”

“He's right Dean,” Sam says reasonably. “If there are 16 vamps in that nest and he knows where they are and where they're gonna be, we gotta take a shot at as many of them as we can.” Dean nods to his brother and they spend the rest of the night talking strategy and making plans.

When last call rolls around at two, Sam looks at Olle and asks, “You got somewhere to sleep tonight?”

“I'm good,” Olle says right away. “I got my truck, I'm good.”

After a stern look from Dean, Sam lets it go and Olle could kick him because even the beds in the bunker are better than the backseat of his truck as tall as he is. Then again, he reasons, Sam probably took his room in the bunker because it was the only one with a bed anywhere near big enough for a man his size so it wouldn't have mattered. 

While they make plans to meet up in Lebanon in the morning, Olle follows them out to a powder blue Challenger from the 70's and wonders, almost paniced, what happened to Baby. “Where is that beautiful old Impala Bobby was forever going on about? Said you kept her mint, always.”

“Workin' a job in Oregon last week,” Dean says, “Baby needs some body work. She'll be road ready in no time.”

“I'd love to see her,” is all Olle says before turning back to his truck and opening the door. “See you tomorrow then,” he says and they nod before getting in their car and driving away.


	15. Chapter 15

Olle slides into his truck and heads for the Prairie Wind Motel, he saw on his way into town. Once he is tucked away in a room, he pulls out his phone and, after changing the contact name from Rich to Dick, he calls Gabriel. 

“How'd it go,” the angel asks as soon as he answers.

“Okay,” Olle says with a yawn. “I hustled Dean outta sixteen-hundred bucks, ate some cheese fries, and we're gonna meet up tomorrow to go back to Kansas City.”

“What'd you tell them?”

“As many half truths as I could so Dean doesn't get happy with the torture when they find out the whole truth.” Gabriel laughs into the phone. “Yeah,” Olle laughs too. 

“Could you imagine!” Gabe can't stop snickering when he says, “He'd be pissed and trying to get you to talk but all you'd be able to do is offer pointers.” 

Olle chuckles, sighs, and gets serious again, “I told them about Mikhail, it was hard to hide much after that, if it wasn't about curses and immortality and all of you.”

“They Google you?” Gabriel asks.

“While I was sitting there! And, son of a bitch, I forgot you were internet savvy before you died; when did you do that?” Olle is embarrassed, he hates that Wikipedia page and is now going to make all his social media accounts private.

“Couple weeks ago,” he says smirking through the phone. “Thank you so much for your Grindr profile, b t dub; Balthazar has discovered online hook-ups.” Olle groans, flopping back on his bed in his boxer-briefs. “I know, right!” Gabriel says.

“It's not even active anymore, I don't think, how did you find it?”

“I looked,” Gabriel laughs, “or, rather, Beth looked at my instigation.”

“How are they all doing?” Olle asks desperate to change the subject.

“Everyone is getting along, Linda is learning self-defense and how to kick demon ass from archangels and an immortal Wonder Woman. I tried to get her to change her name to Diana and she got all defensive, why?”

“When my mother, my real, actual mother, was young, in the 70's, people used to stare and tell her she looked like Wonder Woman.” 

Olle is quiet and Gabriel knows not to press so he moves on. “Luci is going to make his head explode with everything he's reading and he's talking a lot more. He has even managed to look other people in the eye when he speaks the past week or so.”

“But he's still not training?” Olle asks.

“We're getting there,” Gabriel says. “The first two weeks he wouldn't even watch. Beth's got all of us doing yoga and meditation and tai chi; it took her about a week but he's been doing that with us every day.”

“It's a step in the right direction, anyway, is the meditation helping him at all?”

“Yeah, actually, I think it is. It's a lot like prayer but, honestly, angels are supposed to pray and it's not something we're very good at; at least it's familiar.”

Olle laughs and stretches out on the bed, getting comfortable, “How are you?”

“Good,” he says quickly then stops. “Better, I don't know. Coming to terms, I guess, with how the world is now.” 

He sounds tired, Olle thinks, but not fragile; he remembers how he looked standing in the hotel room before they left Chicago and he feels like, maybe, he is the one who needs a hug now. 

He was so lost in thought he completely ignored Gabriel ask him how he was doing until the angel said, “Hey, Olle, man where'd you go?”

Olle came back to himself with a jerk and said, “Huh? Just, just tired Gabe, that's all. Like you couldn't possibly imagine.”

“Where are you?” Gabriel asks. 

“I was gonna drive to Lebanon and sleep in the truck but I'm too fucking tall and I passed this little motel, actually really nice,” he says looking around the room, “on the way into Smith Center.” Olle yawns and says, “I just need to get some sleep, kill some vamps, then make it 'til the end of September. I'll be fine once I can start hunting again full-time.”

Gabriel is standing at the foot of the bed when he answers, “You don't believe that.” They both hang up their phone and, without even a snap, Gabriel is crawling up the bed wearing just his underwear. He settles on the big man's chest, straddling his thigh, and wraps his arms around him, rubbing his face into Olle's sternum. “Comfy,” he says before looking up at Olle. 

Olle wraps his arms around the angel and pulls him up until Gabriel's arms are braced by his head and Olle can see those infinite pools of amber. “I tell myself lots of things I have absolutely no faith in; it works for a while.” 

Gabriel leans down and kisses him then, soft and slow; deepening the kiss in the middle and pulling back slowly at the end. He hadn't meant to kiss him, he is sure of it, but in that moment Olle looked so resigned; stern faced and resolute but his hazel eyes were sad and lost. He was reminded of something, though he couldn't put his finger on what, and just had to lean in and do something to make him feel better. 

Olle looks at him for a moment, wondering what brought that on, before he wiggles them down into the bed and, as Gabriel curls into his side, he pulls the covers over them. “Stay?” he asks hating the need, just to be close to someone, reflected in his voice.

“Of course,” the angel says tightening his arm across Olle's chest and snapping to turn out the lights.

**

When his alarm goes off at six, Olle wakes up draped over Gabriel. “Hey,” he says reaching over to turn off the beeping. He lays back down on the angel's chest and sighs, “I gotta be in Lebanon in an hour.”

Gabriel scratches his hand through Olle's short, messy hair and says, “I gotta go, then, and you gotta shower.”

“Yeah,” he says rolling off the bed. He stretches then turns back to the angel, “Hey Gabe,” he smiles, scratching his chest, “thanks.” Gabriel salutes him with a smile then vanishes. He feels better even before he steps into the hot water. 

After throwing on his jeans and a black t-shirt, Olle slips his knives and picks and other accessories back into what will soon become their regular home on his person before going out to the truck to add a modified shoulder holster for his Taurus, that also holds a blade at his back. He adds a Glock 43 to his ankle and slips his machete in its place at his back before throwing on his yellow and orange plaid and grabbing a cup of coffee and a danish from the continental breakfast then checking out. 

Olle stops for gas, and a better cup of coffee, on his way out of town. He meets the boys at the Lebanon Methodist Church at a quarter til seven, just like they planned. The parking lot is still empty this early on a Sunday morning. Dean is sitting on the hood of the Challenger, nursing a Yeti mug of coffee and eating what looks like doughnut holes from a brown bag sitting in the space between his legs. Sam sits in the passenger seat re-reading the information Olle left with them last night, drinking his own coffee. Olle pulls the truck up next to the Challenger and is standing directly in front of Dean when he kills the engine and steps to the ground.

“Where we going when we get there?” Dean asks licking sugar off his fingers while he tilts his head back to look Olle in the eyes.

Sam stands up out of the car then, leaning on the open door and the roof, “I think we go check out this address instead of just waiting 'til tomorrow.”

“Sounds like a plan to me,” Dean says sliding down the hood and off the front so he's not face to chest with Olle once on the ground. “We'll get some lunch at Town Topic then do some recon while the sun's still up. Then,” he grins, “dinner at Pancho's.”

“Sounds like a great idea,” Olle says grinning as Sam scrunches up his face at the prospect of all the fast food Dean loves so well. “You guys can stay with me tonight, if you'd like, it beats the hell outta beg bugs and musty sheets in some crap room.”

“You got room for us Gigantor?” Dean asks walking all the way around the passenger side of the car to open his own door. 

“Yeah, I got room,” Oll says opening the door to the truck. “Just follow me,” he says getting in and closing the door.

He is a little bit startled a few seconds later when Sam opens the passenger side door and slides in, “I thought I'd ride with you,” he says with a smile, “so we can get to know each other a little better.” 

“Sure Sam,” Olle says buckling up and turning on the engine. 

The four hour trip back to Kansas City goes faster than Olle expected it to with Sam riding shotgun. Sam monopolizes the conversation, steering it so Olle is forced to talk about himself, his time in the military, his work with Doctor's Without Boards, and how long he has lived in Kansas City. Olle knows what Sam is doing, expected it as soon as the kid opened the passenger door, so he lets him ask question after question until they are about fifteen minutes from his apartment. 

“I've spent the past four hours talking about myself,” Olle says when a lull opens the conversation. “Answer a question for me,” Olle says turning to look at Sam.

Olle can tell he is immediately on point, reserved, and tense but, without missing a beat, says, “Sure, shoot.”

“What do you know about something called the Darkness? I had an interesting conversation with a shifter a month or so ago and she was afraid of something called the Darkness; said Creation was doomed.” Olle looks over at him out of the corner of his eye while he watches the road, the hunter has definitely blanched a bit, but he is covering well so Olle keeps pushing, “What have you heard, or can we assume this bitch was just trying not to get the gank?”

“Well,” Sam says like he is thinking of what to say, “we've been hearing rumors lately too. The job in Oregon last week; monster making other monsters, building an army to fight the Darkness, he said.”

'And you idiots fucking stopped him,' Olle thinks to himself before saying, “So it is out there? How much do you know about it?” 

“It's pre-Creation,” Sam shakes his head at a bit of a loss. “Not a lot of pre-Creation lore out there really. What few references I can find are obscure, not in any language I've ever even heard of, and mostly worthless.”

“That angel mess a few years back was ridiculous, but you boys had to come out of it with a few friends in that department; what can the angels tell you?”

“They don't know anything more than we do; it was, apparently, before their time too,” Sam says.

“But the archangels,” Olle says then falters like he just remembered something, “are all dead or as good as; right.”

“Yeah,” is all Sam says. Olle lets the conversation drop as he pulls into the parking garage.


	16. Chapter 16

Once they get upstairs to Olle's apartment, Dean whistles, “Pretty nice!” 

Olle laughs, “Thanks. Make yourselves at home. Guest bedrooms are to the left, one is an office but the sofa pulls out into a queen sleeper. I don't think that bed is made but there are pillows and sheets in the hall closet.” Olle drops his bag of carefully chosen weapons on the dining table and takes his luggage down the hall to his room while Sam and Dean check out their bedrooms. He thought, briefly, about taking them to the house but that raised questions he was, yet, unwilling to answer. 

When he comes back into the living space, Dean has his weapons spread out on an oil cloth on the huge coffee table but Sam is nowhere to be seen. He goes down the hall toward his office and, as he suspected, finds Sam sitting at his desk reading the book he left there the last time he was here, two weeks ago. The hunter looks up when Olle knocks on the door and says, “You're researching the Darkness?”

Olle shrugs, leaning against the door facing, “Inquiring minds.” Dean comes in then and parks on the couch watching their conversation.

“Where did you get this book,” Sam asks in awe, “it has to be at least two-thousand years old!”

“I didn't even know about any of this until around 2006 .” Honesty, real honesty, Olle thinks, finally! “Einar,” the actual name he used for centuries after leaving hell, “died before I was born and my mother abandoned me at birth in a park in Helsinki. It was Halloween, she'd hoped I'd freeze. I was adopted. The man who adopted me, also a doctor, died when I was in medical school. My mother worked at Yale, and I came to America to do my residency. She died of metastatic breast cancer when I was 14; I was half-way through my surgical residency.” Olle stops for a moment, remembering the people who took him in, who raised him, who loved him so completely and unconditionally, whom he loved in return; his parents. 

“If you were adopted, how did you find out about your Dad?” Dean accuses.

“Given my intelligence and my profession, as a means of self-support, I got the man who was my legal guardian at the time to help me petition the courts in Finland to emancipate me; they did. When I was 16, I petitioned them, again, to join the marines. This was 1998 and I spent eight years in the military. When I was released I was, somewhat, a celebrity and my birth mother found me.” Lies again, but he can get over it, probably, “Apparently I look exactly like my father. She was, is, was a very, very powerful natural witch. That is how I found out who I was, where I came from, and I became insatiable in my search for information.”

“Your mother was, or she is?” Sam asks.

“Do you know how hard it is to kill a natural witch, Sam?” Olle asks. 

“We do,” Dean says. “Damn near impossible!”

“As far as I know,” Olle says trying to be truthful while lying, “there has never not been a hunter in my family for over two thousand years. We were there at the founding of the Men of Letters,” Olle says.

“How,” Sam asks, suspicious but still in awe, “do you know about the Men of Letters?”

Olle gestures at the book in his hand, “Can you read Aramaic?”

“Sort of,” Sam admits tentatively, looking back down at the book in concentration. “It's a journal,” he says after a moment, looking up at Olle. “How is it not crumbling?”

“Enchanted so it won't deteriorate, don't worry about that.” Olle nods, “It was my ancestor's, just put it back on the desk when you're finished with it.” Olle pushes away from the door and starts off back down the hall before saying over his shoulder, “Are we going to lunch?”

When Sam and Dean walk into the kitchen, Olli has two containers of dead man's blood on the counter, he grabs boxes of ammunition off the counter also. “Here,” he says throwing a box of bullets at each Winchester, “they're hallow points full of dead man's blood that's been treated with anti-coagulant and a paralytic.” He goes over to his bag on the table, pulling it open to get syringes, “I have a limited number of syringes but I have a small crossbow in the truck and about 45 bolts soaking in dead man's blood; I'm pretty good with it but, if either one of you would rather use it, just let me know.” 

Olle has started filling syringes when Dean asks, “Have you field tested the bullets?”

“It's a mix my family has been using since the 50's, though the paralytic wasn't added until the 70's, and I've personally been using them since I started hunting in '06. Body shots will slow them down, the more you hit them the slower they get, but if you hit them in the brain it drops them like a bull elephant for about a half hour.” Olle slides each hunter a wrap of six syringes before storing the rest of the blood back in the refrigerator and saying, “I'm starving. Let's get to it.”

As they are headed to the elevator, Sam turns to him, while Dean goes on ahead, and asks, “How come we've never heard of you before? You're as locked and loaded, as well trained, as anyone we've ever seen; where have you been?”

“I don't hunt, Sam, unless I absolutely have to. I found these vamps by accident while I was in San Francisco. I'm not sure I'd've stayed with it this long, without passing it off, if they hadn't ended up in my own backyard.”

He can feel Sam judging him for knowing what is really out there and not doing more to help but, instead of saying what he is clearly thinking, he says, “How'd you end up in 'cisco?”

“I'd been in the Congo for six weeks with Doctor's Without Boarders and there was a bombing close to our hospital, I was former military and they needed trained volunteers to help with search and rescue. The building was hit, again, while I was inside, and collapsed; I was trapped for four days. They sent me home to recuperate and the hospital let me take what time I would have been gone as a leave of absence. I'd never been to San Francisco and as a single, gay man it seemed like the perfect place to vacation. I just went back to work four and a half weeks ago.”

“You've been working and hunting these vamps?,” Sam asks, impressed, as they get to the elevator where Dean is waiting.

“They can't keep killing people,” Olle says going through the door. “So,” he says as the door closes “we can take my truck since it's got four wheel drive and can get places that Challanger can't.” He pulls his keys out of his pocket and asks, “Who wants to drive?” Sam literally grabs the keys out of his hand before Dean can even move and heads out the door as soon as it opens with a grin on his face.

Olle can't help but imitate that grin as he calls, “Shotgun!” before following Sam to the garage. 

“You know where we're going?” Dean asks grumpily from the backseat.

“Yeah,” Olle says. “The truck's got GPS, and I was just there yesterday.”

“Food first,” Dean says and Olle agrees so he tells Sam where to turn and they're enjoying greasy diner food in no time flat.


	17. Chapter 17

After lunch, the roughly fifteen mile drive is great, the windows are down and it's a beautiful day, not too hot, even for June, and Olle feels like he is moving forward again, finally, for the first time since he remembered who he was. 

The address the vamps gave him Friday night leads to an abandoned farmhouse in a conservation area in Saeger Woods and they still have at least four good hours of light left when they arrive just shy of three o'clock. They park just off the main road a few hundred feet from the fence around the old property and, after a few seconds of banter, Sam and Dean decide Dean should be the one to go up and scout the house to see if the nest is still there. 

When he comes back, about fifteen minutes later, it is confirmed there are at least sixteen vampires inside as well as what could be a dozen or more hostages chained up in the kitchen. Olle has Dean pull the truck right up to the gate so no one can get out without crawling the fence or plowing through his truck. That Civic those girls had Friday is typical of every car they have and it won't move the truck. They'll be forced to climb the fence, so he opens the back and pulls out the container of crossbow bolts, using the blood they were soaking in to smear along the barbwire at the top of the fence line as repellent. 

Dean divided his share of syringes between his brother and Olle before screwing the silencer on his gun so they could dose as many vamps as they could without alerting the others, in an attempt to even the odds a little. When they take the house, it is quick and silent. Olle goes through the back door, skirting through the kitchen un-noticed, while Dean climbs the covered porch to go in a side window upstairs and Sam takes the front. When heads start to roll, the thud of bodies hitting the floor is the only sound. All told there were nineteen vampires and four of the nine hostages, while unconscious, were still alive. 

Olle drags the four hostages outside, giving them what medical care he can, while Sam and Dean relocate all the bodies to two piles, one human and one vampire, in the living room floor before they douse them in salt and gasoline. They let the bodies burn while they load the hostages, three men and one woman, into the back of Olle's truck and, afraid of starting a forest fire, they call 911 as they're leaving. They drop the hostages in the parking lot of a church during evening service and head back to the apartment. 

**

Once back at Olle's, everybody showers and Dean helps him clean weapons at the kitchen table while Sam sits at the desk in the his room reading the journal Olle showed him. “How'd you end up here, man?” Dean asks sitting across from him while he cleans Sam's Taurus. He waves his arms in an all encompassing kind of gesture and goes on, “I mean, finding out about your family, hunting, all of it! Why jump head first into it when you were, are, from what I've read, an honest to God war hero and one of the best surgeons in your field? I mean,” he shakes his head, “it doesn't make a lick of sense to me.”

Olle shrugs, “My name was supposed to be Olle because it means ancestor and I was supposed to continue a great legacy. None of this,” he gestures the same way Dean had, “none of the knowledge or the influence or the history was mine; it all came before me. None of the ones before me, before Mikhail, had ever thought of doing or being or having anything different than the war, the hunt, the kill. They were all servants of the greater good, whatever the fuck that is, and, if they wanted something different, they never let themselves believe they could have it. I found out about it all at about the same time you and Sam broke the bank on the whole apocalypse, though. At that time, if you knew what was out there and you turned your back on it, you weren't just turning a blind eye on what could, conceivably, be considered the natural order. If you didn't hunt, you were turning your back on Humanity, because Michael and Lucifer were set on taking us, all of us, not just our lives but our souls.”

“How can you call it the natural order?” Dean asks. “They're monsters.”

“We don't get mad at a white shark when it eats a baby seal, Dean.” Olle stands up and starts putting his cleaned weapons back in his bag while he talks, “We have, however, learned the necessity of culling the most violent from the herd when needs be. Spirits should be put to rest because they're in pain. Demons should be exorcised or killed because they seek evil, violence, and death for the shear pleasure of it and are, in essence, spirits who should be put to rest; put out of their own misery. Those creatures who were born out of a twisting or a torment of the soul, windegos and rusalkas and banshees, need to be hunted for the same reason. I can't condemn those children of Eve, though,” he says sliding his Taurus back in his shoulder holster, “who are living in society in such a way as to not draw attention to themselves. I won't condemn those, either,” he goes on, slipping his Glock in his ankle holster, “who limit their feeding habits to certain sectors of the human populations; I know a whole pack of werewolves in Finland who, for centuries, have only killed murderers, rapists, and pedophiles.” Dean gets a look on his face and Olle stops him before he can speak, “Now, you're going to ask about those subcategories of were-creatures who are no longer in control of themselves during the full moon, I agree, they should be dealt with,” he says before sliding both of his boot knives home. “If you were born a monster, though, the same as being born a man, you have just as much right to live as anyone and, until you infringe on another person's right to life, you don't deserve to be judged for something that is totally beyond your control.”

“I guess you make a lot of fair points,” Dean says picking up his bag of cleaned weapons. “I've learned a lot, these past couple years, about how not all monsters are evil and not all humans deserve to be saved.” Olle knows he is talking about himself but he doesn't say anything, he just cleans up his work-space before following Dean down the hall toward the guest bedrooms.

“Sammy,” Dean calls out walking by his brother's door, into his own room, to throw their weapons on his bed.

“Yeah Dean?” Sam says sounding distracted.

“Dinner, let's go!” Dean goes into Sam's room and hands him back his boot knife and his gun waiting on his little brother to say he is ready to leave.

“Yeah, Dean, just a minute,” Sam says. Olle had followed Dean but stopped in the door, at the sight of two brothers so used to being everything for each other; aching suddenly for the family he betrayed so long ago. He looks through them. Sam asks, “Olle, have you read this?”

Jerked out of the past, Olle shakes his head and answers, “Huh? Read, oh, yeah Sam, I've read it. Why?” He move into the room, behind Sam's seat, to look over his shoulder and sees he has been flipping back and forth through the journal, reading about the founding of what would, eventually, become the Men of Letters.

“Did you understand it?” he asked seriously. “Because I've noticed six, maybe seven, different languages and dialects; some of it,” he shakes his head flipping back a few pages to where his finger was, “is phonetic Proto-Gaelic when the author is writing in Latin because they had no written language when Rome invaded the British Isles.”

Olle wrote it, he, literally, remembers how jumbled and confused he was trying to capture what he knew would be important details, but he can't tell Sam that so he says, “It took a while, but I speak modern Gaelic, most of the dialects anyway, backtracking wasn't easy but...” he trails off remembering how hard it was to learn the language and write it out without its having an established alphabet. “I feel more sorry for the poor bastard who wrote it than anyone who ever tries to read it,” he says finally because it is the truth. Sam just shakes his head.

“So, book worms, dinner?” Dean says standing from his position leaning on the desk.

“How about McFadden's?” Olle says coming around the desk, following Dean to the door. “It's open 'til three, they have great pub food, and we can walk since it's just down the block.”

“Never heard of it,” Dean says, skeptical.

“It's open til three so, it's a bar Dean,” Sam says catching up and slapping his brother on the back. “You'll be fine.”

“Fine,” he says, “McFadden's it is then, let's go, it's almost ten.”


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like some of this should have been in the previous chapter but I just wasn't sure and it flowed better, to me anyway, this way.

When Olle and Sam leave the pub at midnight, Dean is still sitting at the bar with an, admittedly, beautiful woman who will, Olle has no doubt, be the first woman to have sex in his apartment since he moved-in back in 2008. “Is he always that smooth?” Olle asks as they leave the pub.

Sam laughs, dimples showing, shaking his slightly longer than normal hair before running his hands through it and sighing good-naturedly. “Any woman he's wanted since he was old enough to want them,” Sam says, hazel eyes sparkling with mirth.

Olle is struck by how accidentally, casually, beautiful Sam is, how unconsciously sexual, and he prays silently to Gabriel, “Gabe?” he sighs the angel's name with a question. “How did you, Sam is just, if you could have seen him ten seconds ago. We're good, by the way, vamps are dead and they're leaving in the morning.” When Olle laughs a few seconds later at the sight of Gabriel right in front of them, walking backwards to look at them, Sam thinks it is directed at him and chuckles again.

“He really, really is, isn't he,” he angel says shaking his head. “Where is Dean?” Sam seems to answer the question for him.

“Are you really going to be okay with him bringing that woman back to your apartment?”

Olle shrugs and says, “I did give him the door code and a key, Sam, as long as he changes the sheets before you guys leave, why should it bother me?”

He glares at Gabriel, though, because the angel says, “Oh really?” with a wicked grin. “I'll finally get to see the man in action!” Olle is far from being a prude but voyeurism should be consensual. 

“If it were just him kicking us out of a crap motel room that would be one thing,” Sam says seriously, “but we're guests in your home.”

“I grew up in Finland, Sam,” Olle laughs, “Scandinavians have a much more relaxed approach to sex.” As they go in the front door of the building Olle stops to speak to the night concierge, “Craig,” he says to a middle-aged brunette with brown eyes and a van dyke.

“Dr. Wallander,” the man says with a smile. “It is always a pleasure to see you, sir. What can I do for you?”

“Craig, this is my friend Sam,” the men share a greeting and shake hands briefly. “He and his brother, Dean, are staying with me for a couple of days. We just left Dean at McFadden's and he may be back here later tonight with, or without, a very attractive woman. I gave him the guest code for the door and he has a key to my apartment. I just wanted to let you know. He's a few inches shorter than Sam, here, and built about like you; his hair looks like mine only a bit longer. Just didn't want you to bother him if you saw him.”

“Of course not, sir,” Craig says with a smile. Olle nods at the man with a smile and tips him a twenty when he reaches out to shake his hand.

“This just got boring,” Gabriel whines. “I'm gonna go see what Dean's up to,” he says and disappears.

Olle shakes his head and pulls his phone out, “I'm just going to make a quick phone call. The timing is perfect to catch my friend Kalle, before he goes to work, in Finland.”

“Sure,” Sam says and he wonders through the lobby looking around.

When Gabriel picks up the phone Olle says, “Hey, how's it going?” He speaks Finnish, to complete the ruse and so Sam will not be able to eaves drop. 

“Dean is reeling her in, but she just invited him back to her place so I guess you lost a twenty on the doorman for nothing,” the angel says in Finnish. 

“You gonna follow them home, go back to Linda's, or what?” Olle asks.

“Luci has been working his way through the recommended reading lists for school kids by grade and he's finally reached 5th grade. A Wrinkle in Time fucked with his head, but he started Old Yeller about an hour ago so I'm going to have to go pretty soon so he won't freak out alone.”

“Why do you think he'll freak out?” Olle asks seriously. 

“He is just figuring out emotions and he feels them all, Beth has informed me, like he is an infant or a toddler, so the reactions are very, visceral.”

“I'm sure part of it is the PTSD, he wants to get out of his own head so he gets lost in the book. Instead of being overwhelmed by his own mind, then, though, he is overwhelmed by the emotions in the book and the emotions caused by the book.”

“Yeah, well, Dean and his date just got in a cab so I'll call you tomorrow, maybe,” Gabriel says.

“That's fine, but I have to be at the hospital tomorrow afternoon.” Olle is ready to hang up but he stops suddenly and says, “Hey?”

“Yeah,” the angel replies.

“The Giver.”

“What?”

“All three of you should read The Giver,” Olle says. “I'm sure it's on a dusty bookshelf in Kevin's room but you should buy a copy too, so he'll have it.”

“Okay, I'll call you tomorrow.”

“Bye,” Olle says hanging up. He turns to Sam, “Sorry about that, we don't get to talk often because of our schedules and the time difference.”

“It's fine,” Sam says pushing the button for the elevator. “I'm guessing,” he says as they step on the elevator, “Dean went home with her instead of the other way around.”

“Looks like,” Olle says hitting the button for his floor. 

They don't speak the rest of the way up in the elevator and, once inside the apartment, Sam heads down the hall with a quick, “Goodnight.”

Olle locks the door, plugs his phone up, then goes to his own room, disarms as he undresses, sets his alarm for six, and slides between the cool sheets to sleep. He hears Dean come in around four, then sleeps until his alarm goes off. He gets up, goes to the bathroom and pulls on his running gear, before heading to the kitchen for some water. He finds Sam, running clothes on as well, filling up a sports bottle at the sink. “Coming or going?” Olle asks pulling his own bottle from the cabinet and filling it up.

“Going,” Sam says.

“Mind if I tag along?” Olle asks.

“Sure,” Sam says.

They both run with earbuds and don't speak after a brief conversation about where they are going to run and for how long. On their way back to the Apartment, they stop across the street at Starbucks for coffee and breakfast sandwiches, Sam is sure to get Dean something as well, and they head upstairs to eat. Olle eats his food at the kitchen counter while Sam tries to get his brother out of bed, and Olle is in his bedroom before either man comes back down the hall. After his shower, he pulls on a charcoal suit with gray belt and shoes, pink shirt, and pink paisley tie. He goes over to the dresser to get his watch and wallet, then, is half finished arming himself before he realizes it is not necessary; but does it anyway. 

Sam is in the kitchen, showered, finishing his breakfast, alone, but Olle hears the shower in the guest bathroom. He goes over to the counter and turns on the Keurig to heat while getting a travel mug down and loading it with sweetener. He uses the carafe setting on the machine because his mug is 32 ounces and the Keurig always shorts you at least an ounce so he has just enough room for cream. He uses the carafe to fill his cup, leaving a bit in the bottom and using the smaller setting to fill it again before saying, “There is more coffee, Sam, if you want it.”

“Thanks,” the smaller man says coming over to throw his trash away and he stops to get more coffee. “Dean and I won't bother you much longer,” Sam says taking his black coffee back to the table.

“You're not a bother,” Olle laughs. He grabs his phone off the counter, where it was charging, and sits down at the table with Sam before he says, “The three of us worked pretty well together. I hope, if you need anything, if I need anything, in the future, we can call on each other.”

“I thought you didn't hunt,” Sam says.

“I'm a very observant man, Sam, and I've heard rumors in the everyday world about a whole town dying, infected with some unexplainable virus. Animals are acting strangely. Monsters are building armies, you said so yourself, and if what we did yesterday didn't convince you of it as a fact...” Olle trails off shaking his head. “The Darkness is coming, or it's already hear, and we're playing catch-up.”

“It is already here,” Dean says coming toward the table. 

“What is it? What does it want? What is it doing?” Olle asks, trying to find out what they know.

“It is ancient, beyond ancient, pre-Creation,” Sam says. Olle shakes his head and thinks, 'aren't we all?'

“It's eating souls,” Dean says sitting down at the chair where Sam left his food. “Or, it ate this one girls soul, and disappeared.”

“You've seen it?” Olle asks. “What was it?” The eating souls was something he had not considered and made him wonder what, if anything, she could do to him and, if she did, what effect it would have on Creation.

“It was a baby,” Sam says.

“Amara,” Dean provides. “But she ate one soul and, poof, old enough to walk about of the house under her own power,” Dean says around a mouth full of food. “We don't know where she is; can't find any sign of her.”

“Maybe,” Olle says trying to sound optimistic, “that's a good thing?”

Dean huffs a laugh before swallowing some coffee, “Yeah, I doubt it!”

Olle's phone chirps and he looks down at it, a weather alert, but he uses it as an excuse, “I need to go guys, I have surgery this afternoon. Can you just,” he stands, “leave the key on the counter, the door locks automatically behind you.” He shakes both there hands, “It was good to meet you both. I told Sam,” he says to Dean, “if you need anything you know how to reach me and where to find me.” He picks up his coffee and grabs the truck keys off the table by the door then heads out in a hurry. 

Once he is in the elevator alone he calls out, “Gabe! Now!” The angel is beside him in an instant looking around for danger but Olle just starts talking, “Amara, her name is Amara, and she is consuming souls! They had her and they lost her; she could be anywhere!”

“If she is consuming souls she is gaining power. What will she do?” The angel groans in frustration. “I have to go talk to the others,” he says. Olle nods and Gabriel is gone before he reaches the lobby.


	19. Chapter 19

On his way to the hospital, Olle thinks about what is coming and where he is going. A part of him is loathed to give up being a doctor, a surgeon, but this, the Darkness, has to take priority. When he gets to the hospital he goes directly to the chief of staff and, since his replacement has already been approved, makes arrangements to step down at the end of the month while remaining on staff only to complete the previously approved pro-Bono work he was doing. After, he goes into his office and starts to pack the last ten years of his life away. With only a week left in the month, and one more surgery to preform, he knows he won't be there much longer so he wants to cut ties as soon as possible. He leaves the hospital at a reasonable hour, for him, which only means before midnight, his truck full of boxes; mostly medical texts. Stopping on his way back to his apartment, he avails himself of Missouri's non-specific alcohol regulations by buying two bottles of whiskey when he stops at the twenty-four-hour Walgreens to buy ibuprofen for the hangover he is going have from the whiskey. Drinking himself into a stupor is something he has not done in centuries, so he feels entitled. 

Olle pours himself a drink as soon as he is through the door, and another before he goes into the bedroom, bringing the bottle, to peel out of his suit and stand in the shower, newly filled glass in hand. Coming out of the bedroom, bottle in one hand, glass in the other, wearing only a pair of black boxer-briefs, he decides to stop and eat something before his ability to keep food down goes completely out the window. He finds everything he needs for French Toast, including two-week old bread, in the refrigerator and decides to help his hangover by drinking a glass of water while he cooks and another one while he eats. Going into the office with his half-empty bottle, pulling out his laptop, he starts poking around for something to hunt that will bring him closer to the Winchesters and the end of this disaster.

Given the food in his belly, his overall size, and, admittedly, high tolerance, Olle has a very good buzz going so he nurses the four fingers of amber liquid in his glass while he wonders at the almost total lack of demon activity anywhere he can find. What, he wonders, is Crowley up to? Summoning the King of Hell to find out, he realizes, might not be the best idea in his slightly foggy state; besides, he is pretty sure he does not have everything he needs for a summoning. Instead, he leans back in his desk chair, pulls out his phone, and calls Beth.

“Huh?” she asks groggy.

Olle laughs, “Sorry I woke you.” His words are only slightly slurred, not that he cares; that was the point of two bottles of whiskey and he is well on his way to having finished the first one.

He can hear her stretch then yawn into the phone before she speaks again, sounding much more awake, “You're drunk.”

“Uhuh,” he says leaning back in the chair until it tips and he can prop his feet up on the edge of the desk

“You left the hospital, didn't you?” She knows him too well, he thinks. “Because of what she's doing, you quit today when you went in.”

“Uhuh,” he says tipping his glass to his lips. “ We can't assume she won't just keep going until she takes everything. We have to assume her plan is to take all of this away from Him by destroying it.”

“We don't have a soul,” Beth says. “Assuming she can only consume human souls, what, if anything, can she do to us?”

“The tree should protect Creation, no matter what she can do to us,” Olle says rubbing his hand across the tattoo on his side. “This is still His world, His rules, she is just a trespasser who doesn't, we have to hope, know how everything works.”

“Michael's plan was a total purge; just her and him left to create a new Creation. Was that her plan as well?” Beth yawns again, “We never knew.”

“See if you can get Lucifer to talk about it. How did he react when Gabe told you all what she was doing?” Olle reaches over and pours the last of the bottle into his glass, filling it a little over three-quarters full, before bringing it to his mouth.

“He blanched, visibly, and didn't speak, but you could see the wheels turning. He is still a general, we just need to remind him that a lot of who he is, and was, it wasn't caused by the Mark; it was just manipulated by it to be something he doesn't like.”

“I need him to be able to talk to Dean,” Olle says sadly, sitting up in his chair and leaning on the desk. “Dean had time to get comfortable in his own skin before he was affected by the Mark. Luce was so, so inexperienced back then; we all were! Dean knows he is a killer, a warrior, but he still believes he is not a monster; he knows it was the Mark twisting his nature to make it, him, something he isn't.”

“Soon, maybe,” Beth says soothingly. “We can't let her wander around,without any kind of solution, for years; she'll destroy Creation. Once she finds Eve, once she finds a way off this plane and onto the others, not everyone will be able to follow her.”

“And we'll be all alone,” Olle finishes for her. “We can't fight her alone.”

“Is your bottle empty yet?” Beth asks. “You need to go to bed. Drink a glass of water, take some ibuprofen, and get some sleep. Things may not be better tomorrow, but you'll have time in front of you to figure some things out. Good night.” 

Olle empties his glass and does as she told him. He is not sure if he passes out or just falls asleep, but he is so far into his cups he doesn't dream and, for that at least, he is grateful. He wakes the next morning only feeling half as bad as he thought he would, but, he reasons, only because he drank half as much as he intended; he drags himself into a shower before downing a pot of coffee then going into the hospital. 

His last week of work goes by much more quickly than he would have liked. He finishes his final pro-Bono surgery, and does a half dozen more that come through the trauma center, while helping his replacement settle in, and agreeing to work some truly grueling hours in A & E. He exhausts himself and, on his last day, when he is forced to smile and shake hands through a half dozen 'goodbye' celebrations and what feels like hundreds of well wishes, he falls into his truck at six o'clock that evening thoroughly spent. 

“God,” he prays to someone he is pretty sure doesn't care, even if He is listening, “it has been a very, very long time, even by our standards, since I asked You 'why' but now I'm asking.” He leans his head over the steering wheel, “I'm asking why You expect us to clean up Your mess, to take up for You against Your own sister when You won't defend Yourself? Why have You let them,” he isn't sure who 'them' is; Sam & Dean, Gabe & Luce, Kevin, Humanity, “suffer and still expect them to keep going? If You didn't expect us, me, them, to do this for You then You wouldn't have brought them back, You wouldn't have made me remember, You would have finally let Sam and Dean, all of them, go. Do You want her punish You? Destroy us? I'm not asking the right questions. I'm ignorant and foolish and, right now, angry, I know that, but I still want to know the answers.”

He sits back and starts the truck, decides he is going to go home and sleep until he is sore from laying in bed, then he is going to get up and find a way to fix this mess. He needs to hunt, Sam and Dean need to get to know him, he needs to find a way to bring them all together because he knows he won't be the one to fix things; he has always been just a facilitator. 

Back at the apartment, Olle falls into bed directly out of the shower, still mostly wet, and doesn't wake up until almost three the next day. He is pretty sure he would still be asleep if his stomach didn't think his throat had been cut. He crawls out of bed, throws on some jeans, flip-flops, and a t-shirt so he can go across the street to Starbucks for food. Riding back upstairs to the apartment, he realizes he needs to, probably, move himself completely into the house in Mission Hills soon and, once he gets back upstairs, into his office, he finds a moving company who will come in and pack everything for you then deliver it and, if you want, unpack as well. He owns this apartment, and several others in the building, so he figures he will just make arrangements to lease this one as well. If there are any questions, he had already decided to tell people he was going back to Finland for a while; the hospital asked very few questions after his 'near death experience' in Africa and, he suspected, the condo board would be the same way. He schedules the movers for two days from today, their earliest appointment, and makes an appointment to meet with the condo board first thing in the morning.


	20. Chapter 20

Moving, full-time, into the house in Mission Hills means cutting himself off from the mundane world and choosing to live, completely, in the real world, as he saw it. Weapons, training, hunting, and research were going to be his main focus. His first order of business, he knew, needed to be Kevin. He has to find a way to let Kevin into the house so he can, finally, move them all there for safety’s sake. If Amara doesn't know to look for them and nothing else can find them he will feel a lot better about leaving them to their own devices. With that in mind, he pulls up a series of websites about hauntings and bindings to see if he can, somehow, shift Kevin's attachment from the ring to something else already within the house. Inspiration strikes when he realizes he has the other five tablets, the ones that were never discovered. It takes him the rest of the day, and most of the night, to create a ritual that should work; by the time he leaves the apartment for his meeting with the condo board, he is certain he can get Kevin into the house with very little problem. 

**

After his meeting with the condo board, Olle returns to his apartment to start packing his books, the only thing he won't let the movers do. Then he empties the refrigerator and the pantry, gets a trolley cart from maintenance, and loads up his truck. Getting everything out of the truck and into the house is much easier. Once everything is unloaded and unpacked, Olle grabs his phone, falling into his desk chair, and calls Gabriel for the first time since Sam and Dean were in Kansas City. 

“Hey ya Olle, Olle oxen-free,” the angel says when he picks up the phone. “How's tricks?”

Olle laughs for the first time since he decided to leave the hospital early. “No tricks angel,” he says mirthfully. “But, I think I may have found a way to get Kevin into the house.” 

Before Gabriel can even respond, he is standing across from Olle at the desk. “Let me see what you got,” he says sliding his phone into his pocket.

Laying down his phone, Olle grabs the notebook he scribbled his homemade ritual in and hands it to Gabriel. “Tell me you think it will work,” he says while Gabriel reads.

“It should work Olle, you got more than enough juice to pull it off, but,” he says tossing the notebook back on the desk, “where are we gonna get a tablet?”

Olle grins mischievously, “I've got the other five tablets.” 

Gabriel just grins back and says, “Well, alright then. What are we waiting on?”

It takes them about an hour to get everyone besides Kevin, including Linda (just to be safe), keyed into the lock. Gabriel sits outside on the sidewalk with Kevin while Olle and Beth set everything up for the ritual. The ritual is simple in as much as Kevin is already a prophet, therefore, he is already bound to the tablets. The most difficult part, Olle assumed, would be finding some of Kevin's actual DNA but, it turns out, Linda kept every milk tooth he ever lost, the hair from his first haircut, even the bit of umbilical cord that, eventually, falls off a newborn. Once the ritual is done, Kevin is allowed entrance to the house because the tablets are there, however, his soul is still primarily bound to the ring which means he can still go wherever anyone wearing it goes and Gabriel can still keep him fully seated on this plane. 

“What about the apartment?” Beth asks later, as they all sit around the kitchen table eating take away from Bo Ling's.

“I'm leasing it, the movers will be there tomorrow.” Olle says pulling the container of Sichuan dumplings from the center of the table toward his plate.

“Where are you going to put everything?” she asks around a mouth full of Pad Thai. 

“Most of it can be spread out through the house. The den is still completely empty so I thought I'd put all the office furniture in there. The table can go downstairs to the firing range, the bedroom furniture is going in the garage until I can get us moved, properly, into the bunker; I'll take any odds Sam took my room because of the bed and I'll need a bed. The living room furniture can go in the game room.”

“So that is still your plan,” Beth asks. “to move all of this into the bunker? It is safer here than it is there, though.” 

Olle nods his agreement, but goes on, “That's where I was originally going to put it. In the long run, anyway, there's more room, and better training facilities, more weapons, and a hospital.” He takes a drink of his buba tea before going on, “The move is tactical. Once the Bunker doors are locked, the enchantments alone make it worth it.”

“So,” Beth asks taking a drink from her bottle of beer, “are we moving everyone here, then?”

“That's up to Linda,” Olle says looking across the table at her.

She looks up from her food and around the table at everyone before she speaks, “Won't it look strange if I just disappear again?”

“You have some time, I believe,” Olle says, “to think about it. Beth's job isn't over until the end of the Summer. That gives you almost two months to decide and make arrangements.”

“Olle, I can leave whenever you need me to,” Beth says seriously. She wants him to know, even if he feels alone, he is most certainly not.

“I know that,” he smiles at her, nudging her shoulder where she sits beside him, “but, right now, this is just a safe place we all have access to in case we need it.”

“I'd, I'd like to stay,” Lucifer says quietly where he sits across the table from Olle. “If,” he says hurriedly, “if that is alright?” He looks to his brother seeking permission.

Gabriel and Olle share a quiet moment before the big man nods and the angel turns to his brother, “Of course you can, Luci. You may be alone here, sometimes, thought, while Olle hunts; before we all come to stay.”

“That's okay,” Lucifer says, “there are so many things to read. I can still,” he turns his face up to look Olle in the eye, “I can still get books delivered to the house, right?”

“You can Luce, of course,” Olle says. “But,” he is very serious now, “I do want one thing, can you promise me, if you stay here?”

“What?” he asks tentatively.

Olle looks him straight in the eye and says, “I need you to train, Luce.” 

Lucifer looks down at his lap then back up at Olle before moving his gaze around the table and back to his lap again before he shakes his head and says, “I can stay here if I let you spar with me?”

“We can start with that,” Olle says slowly, “but there is a lot more to it. You have a tactical mind, a keen perspective on who and what the Darkness is, and I need you to be willing to use that mind, and that knowledge, to help us. Can you start with sparing and just talk to me about other things? About what you remember, about what Michael may have told you, or about what you think she'll do, and what you think we should do.”

“I guess I can do that,” he says not sounding overly confident, but he did lift his head and make eye contact when he spoke.

“Good,” Olle says with a smile. “Good, you are more than welcome here, and you can read any of the books here and you can buy whatever books you want!”

Lucifer's childlike smile and heartfelt, “Thank you, Olle,” makes him grin and shake his head as the angel excuses himself from the table and begins to wander through the house.

“He'll be alright here alone,” Gabriel asks worried, “won't he?”

“Anything that could cause him any harm is warded against angels. None of the books are particularly dangerous unless you use them as instruction manuals,” Olle says, “and I don't think I'm going to be leaving him alone any time soon. I'll get one of you to stay with him if I have to go somewhere.”

“Are we staying here tonight?” Balthazar asks. “I was going to watch the Game of Thrones marathon on HBO.”

“Linda and Beth both have to work tomorrow,” Gabriel says. “You should take them home. I'll stay here with Lucifer until I'm certain he is settled.”

“Ladies,” Balthazar says standing, “are you ready?” Both women nod and he asks, “Kevin, are you staying or are you going?” Kevin agrees to go, Gabriel hands the ring to Beth, and Balthazar claps his hands together making them all vanish.

“Does he realize how strong he is?” Olle asks, noting the angel did not need to touch any of his companions to bring them with him.

“I don't think,” Gabriel says starting, in the most human way, to clean up the table, “he understands how much power his proximity, to Luci and I, gives him. He's the only angel in Creation now drawing his power directly from the source.”

“You're the only three angels in Creations that are not fallen,” Olle says getting up to help Gabriel pile leftovers into the refrigerator. 

“I know,” he says turning to get a cloth and wash the sticky table. “I wonder what will happen when the others find out about us? I don't think it will be a good thing.”

“Do you believe you can talk sense to them?” Olle asks.

“After everything that has happened, everything that will still happen, I don't believe so. I've been listening, Hannah is dead; murdered by her own. They won't see sense. We can never go home again and I'm more disappointed in them than I am upset by that. I've been here a long time, longer than I was ever there, this has been my home for a long time.”

Turning to the angel as he washes his hands in the sink he asks, “When did you start doing things without Grace or without snapping?”

Gabriel laughs drying his hands on a towel, “Grace leaves a trail, however easily I could hide it, and snapping makes Linda uncomfortable. I've been trying to make an effort to do less of it. Just like old times,” Gabriel grins. 

When they turn back to the table, Balthazar has sent all of Lucifer's books and movies because they are neatly stacked on the table with the Kindle and a note: 'I thought he'd want these, and Linda says would you mind coming back to get rid of all the extra bedrooms? -Baz' Gabriel laughs and says, “I'll be right back.”


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kinda short, not sure where to cut it. Next one may be pretty long...even by my standards.

Olle finds Lucifer sitting at the desk in the living room reading a book Olle remembers translating into Latin so a portion could be given to Bobby Singer, the pieces he gave away contained information about angels and seals and ancient prophecies.

“Where'd you find that?” Olle asked plopping down in the large leather winged backed chair across from the desk.

“It was just,” Lucifer says hesitantly, looking up, “laying here on the desk.”

Olle shakes his head and mumbles, “Chuck.” under his breath; knowing the angel's Father wanted him to read it. It was the only explanation, considering that book was locked behind angel proofing in a cabinet upstairs in his private library. 

“Huh?” Lucifer asks not really paying attention.

“Nothing,” Olle says. “Can you read all of it?”

“It is a jumble of many languages, several different forms of Elvish and Heavenly Enochian mostly, I can read it, yes,” Lucifer says turning a page. “Who,” he looks up suddenly, “was it you who wrote it?”

Gabriel responds as he walks in and makes himself at home in the chair beside Olle, “We did,” he gestures between himself and Olle. “It is a journal slash instruction manual about the building of the Cage and the War as it tore through Creation ripping everything apart.”

“By the time I fully understood what giving him,” Lucifer gestures to Olle while he speaks to Gabriel, “the Mark would do to Creation, I didn't care anymore; I knew the first thing to die would be Humanity and that was all that mattered.” He closes the book and sits quietly, ashamed of his actions and afraid, not only of himself as he had been, but of the idea of Gabriel, or Olle, rejecting him now because of it.

Gabriel snaps into the silence and says, “You should read these,” he gestures to the five books that just appeared on the desk, “Tolkein wandered into a fairy hole and got an interesting retelling of the tale; he did wonderful things with it.”

“I'll have to show you all the movies,” Olle says. “You,” he looks at Gabe, “were dead before The Hobbit films came out.”

“Were they any good?”

“As good or better than the first ones.”

“And he still can't get the estate to sale the rights to The Silmarillion?”

“Nope.”

“Sucks.”

“Do I need to be here for this?” Lucifer asks picking up the books his brother snapped up.

“Not really,” they both say at once. 

Lucifer shakes his head, not unamused, and starts for the door when Olle stops him, “You need to read the real deal. Tokien's books are amazing but that,” he points at the book on the desk, “is what really happened. That is your brother talking about trying to save your life and raging about and to me over what I'd done. That is me trying to put it all down so I could work it out in my head; how I'd fucked up so gloriously by just trying to fix things. That is us building the Cage, creating the Horsemen, forging seals, capturing all manner of fire creatures to keep you there, and talking about the things we lost, the things we carried, along the way.”

“How did they,” he holds up the books he is holding, “come to be, then, as you equate them to what happened?”

“He fell into an open fairy ring,” Gabriel says. “When I found him, he was taking furious notes and committing much more than I could ever erase, without harming him, to memory. Even in the Elvish realms, though, the truth is diluted, even if only by a small fraction of generations.”

“How did he fall through a fairy ring?” Lucifer asked.

“When I read The Hobbit, and it struck so many cords,” Olle said, “I tracked your brother down and he told me it was an accident. Meeting out justice to some deserving soul when the good Professor was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“He was an interesting man,” Gabriel says. “The fairies liked him, which shocked me, and I guess that's why I let him do what he did. I never thought it would turn into what it has.”

“He was,” Olle says, “a gifted writer in his own right and whatever he did to our misbegotten tale only made it much more interesting. However less truthful it became.” 

Lucifer goes back to the desk and picks up the larger volume he was reading, “You said I'd have my own room?”

“The furniture won't be here until tomorrow,” Olle said standing up, “but you're welcome to this one as long as you'd like. I,” he stretched before yawning, “have to get back to the apartment so I'll be there for the movers in the morning.”

“Thank you,” Lucifer says quietly, sitting back down at the desk and opening the journal.

Gabriel followed Olle into the kitchen before speaking, “Why did you give him that? You know how pissed I was, how hurt, how much I just railed at them both the whole time we wrote that! There is page after page in there of how I think he is stupid and horrible and evil and wrong!”

“I didn't give it to him Gabe,” the big man says grabbing his jacket out of the closet and pulling on his boots. “It was upstairs in a locked, enchanted, cabinet with angel warding on it. I'm the only living thing that should be able to open it.”

“Dad?” Gabriel sounds skeptical but Olle only shrugs. 

Something occurs to Olle, just as he gets to the garage door, so he turns to Gariel and says, “After the movers tomorrow, once everything is unloaded here, I'm going to need you to stay with him for a while. There is something I need to do.”

“What?” 

“What do you know about the prophet?” Olle asks.

“Kevin?” Gabriel shakes his head, “There were a slew of potential prophets after him but if, like you said, Metatron fucked that up, I wouldn't know where to being trying to fix it.”

“Chuck.” Olle turns to sit down with Gabriel at the island. “You said there had to be more to the books than just what got published. I think you're right. I want to see what I can dig up; ransack his house, burgle his publisher, hack...I don't know, whatever, I'll have Beth teach me. There is a lot more in the books than just the boys, maybe we missed something that could help us now; maybe we missed something we should know now.”

“Whatever you say,” Gabriel says skeptically.

“You can also learn to hunt while you're babysitting,” Olle says with a grin as he goes back toward the garage.

“What does that mean?” Gabriel asks.

“I need to find a hunt, or several, that will bring me back in line with the boys. I've been searching for demon omens and I've come up bupkiss; Crowley is up to something or he's hiding. I need something to kill that puts me back there again; soon. You know how to Google, find me something.” 

Gabriel follows him into the garage and watches him open the door and get on his bike. Right before he closes the door, the angel says, “Do you just want me to find out what they're hunting and send you after it?”

“They'll know I'm stalking them if I start showing up on their jobs,” Olle says kicking his bike to life. “Just see what you can find. I'll see you tomorrow afternoon, with the movers,” he says emphatically. “So, please be sure neither of you draws attention to yourselves!”


	22. Chapter 22

Gabriel closes the garage door and goes back inside. He stops in the kitchen to snap all of Lucifer's books and movies upstairs onto the empty shelves in the empty room Olle promised his brother, then goes back into the living room where Lucifer still sits at the desk reading. 

“Are you in love with him?” Lucifer asks, still reading, when Gabriel flops, once again, in his empty chair.

Startled, the younger angel looks up at his brother and says, “What are you talking about?”

“The night he was in Chicago, you stayed with him. The night he met Sam and Dean, you stayed with him.” Lucifer looks up now, “Reading this, the way you talk about him. You're having sex with him, you have been, it would seem, since the very beginning. Are you in love with him?” The question is curious, not judgmental or accusatory. 

This is the most sense, and the most interest, Lucifer has taken in anything since he came out of the pit and Gabriel has desperately wanted his shrewd, inquisitive brother back, but, in this moment, he would give anything for the timid, frightened mess his brother has been. He makes a 'pft' noise of denial, shakes his head and says, “It is just something we do, Luci, to pass the time, to feel something. He doesn't even have a soul, not really, so I doubt he is capable of the feeling.” It's a lie, Gabriel knows it too.

“I didn't ask what he feels for you,” his brother says looking up from his page and tilting his head to the side in a look Gabriel remembers from long, long ago when his brother still cared, still valued his opinion, still wanted the truth from him. “He doesn't have a soul, but he is very good at wanting, and,” he looks down at the book and back to Gabriel, “I don't know how much I could take if I have to watch him hurt you. We've both hurt you so much already.”

Gabriel knows, better than anything, what Olle, or the thing that Olle is, is capable of; he is the only one who has really kept track of him since the beginning. Gabriel made him a warrior, a hunter; he taught him how important it was to learn to defend himself, to keep himself, and, by extension, Creation, safe from those who would see what he was capable of and try to use it. Whatever Olle is, consciousness or memory or God only knows, he still has access to his soul; however broken it may be. He wants to tell his brother he is not, cannot, be in love with Olle because he is, irrevocably, in love with someone else. That conversation, though, is not one he wants to have with anyone, ever, so he says, “I'm not in love with him Lucifer, I'm not; he's familiar, comfortable, and it is easy to be with him because it doesn't mean anything.” The saddest part of that, though, is Gabriel does not even realize he is lying as much, or more, to himself than he is to his brother right now.

“You've spent too much time on Earth, brother,” Lucifer says returning to his book. 

“How so?” 

“When I kil- before the Mark was destroyed, I believed you'd betrayed us, me, angels, by aligning yourself with Humanity. And, of all of us, you and Castiel have truly been the only ones who have come, on your own, to understand the importance of Humanity. You see what Dad sees in them and you've begun to, succeeded in, making yourself more like Humanity than like an angel.”

“Is that a bad thing brother?” Gabriel asks seriously.

“I'm not saying that,” he says quickly, “It's just something I don't understand yet,” he sounds like he wants to learn, though. “Castiel came to his conclusions because of his relationship with Dean and Dean's relationship with his brother. He sees their flaws and their struggles to be better, do better, as beautiful. What was it the prophet said? 'It's the blemishes that make her beautiful.' That is what Castiel sees.” Lucifer fixes his ice blue gaze on his brother's amber one and goes on, “You spent an awfully long time as a god brother; I can't believe that is where you learned to appreciate imperfection and struggle.” 

“Being Loki, Lucifer,” Gabriel says seriously, “gave me more than enough opportunity to observe Humanity at its best, and its worst. Catholics call me The Angel of Justice and Loki may be known as a Trickster but I only tricked those who deserved it.”

“Do you feel like that makes you a good man?” Lucifer asks.

Gabriel cannot help the laugh that bursts forth at that question but he sobers quickly when his brother seems to withdraw like he is being mocked. “I wasn't mocking you Luce,” he reaches across the desk toward his brother and the angel looks at him timidly. “I am, absolutely, not a good man, brother. But, do I think, if I were to hand you my Grace this instant and live a mortal life, that I would be welcomed home to a peaceful afterlife in my own personal Heaven? I don't believe Father has ever denied that to anyone who truly wanted it, but I could never do enough, could never amend myself enough, to feel I deserve it. I've sat in judgment of myself and others when even we know only Dad can do that and I've learned how to hate and covet as hard as I've learned how to love and give so no, Lucifer, I am not a good man. But, only the very young are good men brother and I am very, very old.”

“If you deny your own goodness how am I to ever be seen as anything but a monster, but the Devil?” Lucifer asks sadly.

“The first step to seeing yourself as what you are is to forget what you have been in the past. You can't change any of it, but you can decide that is not who you are going to be as you go on.”

“Is that what you did? Is that how you became Loki?”

“I had to shed everything I was, bury my Grace so deep within my vessel the gods couldn't see it and Michael couldn't track it. After I cast you into the Cage, Michael reigned all of Heaven down on me trying to find you so he could find a way to remove the Mark. When Olle accidentally kept me alive, I was unrecognizable and, for eons, I lived among men, as a man. Evolution made it strange, but, nomadic lifestyles being what they were, I simply lived with some for so long before moving on to others. He and I crossed paths occasionally, both living hunter's lives, and we watched the world make itself anew. The separation of The Middle into different universes, the end of high magick here, and the collapse of everything that was before, meant we all had to learn how to live again. As the gods were born, I realized how much easier it would be to hide among them than it was men.”

“You told me Olle gave you your vessel. How long ago?”

“A little over seven thousand years ago. He came to me when whispers of Azazel's plans reached his ears. He wanted my help convincing Cain to help us track his bloodline.”

“Genocide,” Lucifer says leaning back at the desk, “he was going to wipe them out so there would be no place for me or Michael to go if I was ever set free.”

Gabriel nods, “In the beginning, I agreed to help him, but I quickly realized Olle was serious about the possibility of wiping out what would have been two thirds of the population. I couldn't agree to it but, by then, I had been discovered by the Egyptians as a fraud. I forced Olle to keep his side of our bargain and hide me. Thoth tipped Azazel off to where I was, what I was, and he found Olle instead; and drug him into Hell for nearly a thousand years of torture and punishment before Olle bargained himself a way out.”

“Olle,” Lucifer says in terrified awe, “was Azazel's grand inquisitor?” Gabriel nods and Lucifer goes on, “That I never knew! Even in the Cage, though, I heard whispers drifting down through Hell of the monster Azazel brought in to build my demon army. When he found the convent where I was released from the Cage, when I whispered through the final seal what I needed him to do, he apologized for Alistair's weakness, blamed his inexperience and inefficiency for how long I had to wait.”

“The thing,” Gabriel says quietly, “that crawled out of Hell after nearly three thousand years, that is not the thing that was drug in there.”

“What was he? How is he,” Lucifer is lost for words. “How is he not a demon or a serial killer or a mental patient? That was over three-hundred and fifty-thousand years in Hell and he spent most of it factory farming millions of demons for my war machine. What kept him sane?”

“Haven't you noticed he isn't?” Gabriel laughs, though it is not a happy sound. He sober quickly, though, turning serious, “After the war, before you were cast into Hell, when you and Cain gave him the Mark, he spent longer than even Cain denying its hold over him before he agreed to help you. And only did that because we were finished with the Cage and I needed a distraction to lure you into it. What the Mark did to him as it worked its way through him and, therefore, Creation meant that we had to give it back to Cain and we had to peal the universe apart to keep it from dying. But you can't give the Mark to a demon so we had to find a way to cure demons when there were more fallen in Hell than there were demons.” Gabriel leans back and snaps himself a highball glass full of whiskey before going on, “It seems strange to talk about it now when, for all of human history, only fifteen beings remembered what it was like before.” Gabriel takes a long drink then tilts his glass, in offering, to Lucifer who nods his refusal before the smaller angel continues, “Pealing away the magickal places, Avalon, Rivendale, Atlantis, meant, means, there is only a fraction of all available magick still here naturally and the ability to use it is left to only those humans with certain bloodlines. A demon can give power to a human to use because it can move through all planes of existence, but for a human to use magick alone means they are, in part at least, elvish. He has no soul, though, and no real bloodline but he is Creation; his soul was what Father used to jump-start the Big Bang. What He used to make us. Any time Olle uses magick, any time he is forced to destroy his body, any time one of us heals him, it connects him to his soul and that is how he kept us alive to give us vessels and how he kept Cain alive to make him human again and return to Mark to him.”

“So,” Lucifer says in awe again, though not frightened, “the story of the perfect energy used to make everything we were. Dad was talking about Olle?” Gabriel nods, emptying his glass, and Lucifer reaches for it, filling it as it changes hands only to drain it before he sits it down again. “It was a cursed human soul?”

“All that power we have, all the energy He gives us, is because of His fascination with something He didn't know to remember He hadn't invented yet,” Gabriel laughs.

“It's not funny,” Lucifer says seriously, “Olle shouldn't exist. Whatever he is, it shouldn't be. Does he even know what he is?”

“He is a facilitator, like always, he works to move Humanity forward.”

“What?”

“He pushed Eve into Purgatory the first time, at your instigation. He raised the twelve to be men, not monsters, and he got them, and me, to help him stop you. He learned, learns, everything he sees and spreads that knowledge throughout the world; fire, farming, domestication, maths, knitting, astronomy, you name it; he didn't invent it, but he taught others, everywhere, how to use it.” Gabriel leans forward in his chair to stare at his brother, “Not intentionally, probably, but still. He is the accident that happens that gives you one clear shot at what has to be.” Gabriel picks up the glass, filling it and draining it before standing to say, “And that is why I make love him,” that much is true at least. “I want him to feel something and I want him to know I am grateful for my own existence. But I'll never forget he has no soul because when I lose myself in him and I've forgotten what I am and where I am and anything and everything that isn't the touch and taste and smell and feel of him moving with me, there is no exchange of energy,” Liar, he thinks to himself. “All I do is give so he can feel those parts of me that are his soul but, because I am more of his own soul than he is, I feel nothing from him. Sex should be, is, about an exchange of energy. His energy is all spread through Creation, not contained within him; he can't give it away.”

“He's barely even consciousness,” Lucifer says. 

Gabriel shrugs getting up and heading for the door, “Finish your book, Luci, Dad, apparently, left it there for you.”


	23. Chapter 23

Gabriel walks out of the room before Lucifer can respond and spends the night playing pool alone in the attic while he watches re-runs of I Dream of Jeannie and Bewitched on the huge TV on the other side of the room. By about three he is bored and he can't get himself to stop thinking about how horrible what he let Lucifer think about Olle is. The truth, though, is worse, in his opinion. Olle's connection to his soul, to Creation, to each individual everything is so absolute that, if he doesn't make the conscious choice to be one, or lately, two people, he is aware of everything in Creation. That, Gabriel assumes, is how he knows about Baz's alternate universe and how he is, can be, so totally aware of it. 

When he came back from Hell, Gabriel found him in Australia; it took a full-on smiting followed by cremation in Holy Fire and almost nine years of not being anything but everything to bring him back to himself enough to become a person again. He came back different, as well; still dead set on stopping Azazel, but less willing to kill. They fell together, then, like a tornado and Gabriel knew he could have kept him there, wrapped up in sex and food and the still untouched beauty of that continent. Kali got in the way, though, and, by the time he realized where he would have rather been, it was too late; Olle had become obsessed with Azazel once again. When they saw each other, after, it was far, far too late to change things. Despite Olle's best efforts, Gabriel took too long to realize he didn't want the world to end and paid for his willful disregard with his life. 

Leaving the game room, Gabriel wandered back downstairs to the living room where he found Lucifer, still reading. “I lied to you earlier,” he says as he sinks back down into the chair he vacated hours earlier. “About Olle, I lied to you.”

“I know little brother,” the Devil says looking up from his book. “I've always been able to tell; you get this look and I just know. What, exactly,” he asks closing his book and leveling his gaze on the younger angel, “did you lie about?”

“When he was drug into Hell, he was set on preventing your rising, preventing Michael's ascension, and destroying Adam's bloodline to do it.” Gabriel sighs, “There were so few of them then, Azazel was determined to do it as soon as possible. Lilith had, slowly, taken over Hell from the Fallen and Azazel wanted to stop her by completing the quest to set you free; he knew he and his brothers would never have to bow to a human soul, even if it was the first demon, once you were free from the Cage. Olle succeeded in nearly wiping them out, only, I stopped him, and Azazel took the opportunity to drag him into Hell, to keep him from succeeding.” Gabriel shifts in his seat, uncomfortable, before he leans forward and says, “I was so tired of the killing and I was so tired of being away from home and,” his voice breaks, “I missed you both so much!” He throws himself back in the chair, eyes welling up, and goes on bitterly, “For thousands of years I didn't even think to wonder where he'd gone! When he called out to me, after Azazel spit him out of the pit, he was beyond broken. By comparison, you were a poster child for form and function when we found you under that door two months ago.”

“How, then, can he be so, so normal?” Lucifer asks.

Gabriel laughs, “He was so far gone, so wracked with guilt, and so overwrought. He didn't even look human when I found him; he can't become a demon, but he was no longer a man. The only sense he made, in the deepest, farthest corner of his mind, was to beg me to smite him, to burn him with Holy Oil, and I thought that would be it; I thought he'd stay gone. And he did, for nine years. When he came back, he called out to me again and I left Kali and went to him. For almost three hundred years we stayed where we were, just being together, and I learned how connected to everything he is.” Gabriel looks at his brother seriously now, “His body may not carry a soul, but he is more connected to his soul, to everyone's soul, than either of us can fathom. What we can perceive when we don't focus our attention, that is only a fraction of what he is, what he knows, all the time.” 

“Why,” Lucifer asks astonished, “did he come back at all?”

“He bought himself time with the deal; to hunt and find Adam's bloodline. He was going to kill only one generation , but by that time they were too spread out, only just starting to come together again. By the time he realized it was the Campbells and the Winchesters, Azazel had started hunting him again. Lilith had command of Hell, and the two of them got the kennel master to send a pack of hounds for him. That was how he ended up Dr. Mikhail Wallander; he had no memory of anything except that life until he was killed in action in Afghanistan in 2005 and woke up smack in the middle of the beginning of the apocalypse. By the time he found me again, I had already run into the boys once and...”

Lucifer interrupted him, “He got you to try to help him, with The Mystery Spot. Try to convince Sam vengeance wasn't worth it. But,” he says sounding confused, “what were you doing when you trapped them in TV Land?”

“We knew, once Lilith was dead and you were walking around in Nick's vessel, we had to gather the rings, open the Cage, shove you back in somehow.” Gabriel stops and looks at his brother, he is doing remarkably well tonight. He is holding his own during a serious conversation, a conversation he started, and it gives Gabriel as much hope as it does make him wary of when enough will turn into too much, but he goes on, “We both knew it would mean, eventually, revealing myself to them but they were both starting to waver and we knew they would do the exact opposite of whatever I wanted them to.” Gabriel shakes his head, laughing, “We never expected Adam or Kali's attempt to intervene and when Crowley told Olle the boys had gotten mixed up in the gods' little war-conference, I had no choice but to intervene. You showing up,” he says quietly, “wasn't expected and I had to get them out of there, with Kali, because she still had their blood.”

Lucifer looks down at the book he had been reading and sighs heavily before looking back up, making eye contact with Gabriel, “Even,” he takes a deep breath, “even in my madness, I was loathed by what I'd done.” His voice is firm but he is crying, “I couldn't even chase them, it would have been so easy, but a part of me was railing against the idea you were never coming back. The six months it took them to find me after that, to find the rings, I was always in Detroit. Seeing Olle, right after you were gone, how angry, how distraught, he looked at the sight of you; I was enraged. I just couldn't move after that. When the time came, I tried,” he leans back in his chair and shakes his head, “I tried to tell Michael how ridiculous, how futile, the fight was. I asked him to stop. I couldn't stand the thought of killing him and I knew I couldn't let him take me.”

“You,” Gabriel is in awe of what he believes he figured out, “you let Sam take back control! Didn't you?”

“No!” Lucifer says quickly. “No, I would have killed Michael if I had to. The Mark was ringing in my ears at the thought and I wouldn't have been able to stop myself. Sam, though,” he shakes his head, clearly impressed, “he fought me, he was nearly absolute in his conviction he could beat me and, when Dean arrived, I knew I was beaten. I just didn't fight back once I'd given him enough reason to push me away. I helped him drag Michael down with us. Once we were all alone in the Cage, though, and I had been denied my chance to destroy Humanity, my grief was overcome by the madness of the Mark.” His voice breaks and he is crying again, “The things I did to him! We were never allies, but we were constantly running from, being hunted by, Michael. I tormented him, tortured him, goaded him, did everything I could to take my distaste for Humanity out on him.” 

“You did what most other angels would do Lucifer.” Gabriel picks up their highball glass from earlier and, filling it with a thought, hands it to his brother who drains with before filling it again and handing it back to Gabriel who sips it slowly. “Why,” he smiles, “do I think the whiskey I'm giving you to drink is better than what you're giving me?”

Lucifer smiles, small and amused, “I don't know what good whiskey is brother.”

Gabriel snaps his fingers and the amber in his glass turns almost the color of his eyes. He takes a small drink and smiles, “W. L. Weller.”

“I'll remember that,” he says with a snark. 

Gabriel cackles, emptying his glass to put it, full again, on the desk. “Nothing you could think of to do to Sam could be any worse than what has been thought up or practiced by torturers, anywhere, for millennium. He's all better now, and so is Cas, so the smartest things I can think to say is: Don't dwell on it.”

“That is your profound, human, wisdom, brother?” Lucifer asks incredulous. “Don't dwell on it,” he mocks Gabriel's voice. 

“Yes,” he says reasonably. “Make yourself forget to remember something you will always know. It's what they do. It's how they cope.” Gabriel gets up and starts for the door again, “Are you done with that book yet? I've been playing pool by myself all night and it's boring. Come on,” he turns at the door to grin at his brother, “I'll teach you how to play 8-ball.”

“I'm at a stopping point,” he says getting up to follow his brother. “But I don't need you to teach me pool Gabriel,” he says with amusement. “I spent time in Sam Winchester's head, remember? I'm pretty sure I can beat you without even cheating little brother.”

Gabriel grins and says, “Loser is the first to get their ass kicked by Olle later.” Lucifer nods agreement as they start up the stairs.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, long chapter. Cut it in the middle of a paragraph to make it shorter, but it's still long.

Olle booked same day service with his moving company, they showed up at the apartment at eight, just like they were supposed to, and, by three, the second crew of movers were unloading everything into the house in Mission Hills. He was nervous about Gabriel and Lucifer's interactions with the movers but, somehow, they completely avoided them the whole time they were there. After, Olle found both archangels in the backyard reading. Lucifer was about half way through The Silmarillion and Gabriel was scrolling through something online; Olle hopes it is a hunt. He has a lot of unpacking to do now, though, so he just sits down across from Lucifer, turns to Gabriel at the end of the table and says, “Have you caught me a case yet?” Avoidance is not just a Winchester trait. 

“Probably several,” the angel says turning the laptop around so Olle can see seven different windows open, each containing different tabs. “A couple of hauntings, one thing that is definitely a werewolf, something witchy and two demons; take your pick, but I'd start with the ghosts 'cause they are dropping bodies.”

“Great,” Olle sighs, not disappointed but tired. “You wanna unpack for me?” He take the computer and starts looking at the information Gabriel has pulled up.”

“Sure,” the angel says with a snap, “done.”

“You didn't,” he asks, worried, looking at the angel skeptically, “put everything where I'll never find it or make sure something is going to explode in my face the next time I open the freezer or pull a book off the shelf did you?”

Lucifer puts down his book then, looks at his brother, looks at Olle, snaps his fingers and picks up his book. Gabriel grins and says, “One of us did. Now, did he fix it or cause it?”

Olle shakes his head smiling, “I knew I shouldn't have left the two of you alone; you're as bad as Sam and Dean.” Gabriel laughs outright at that but Lucifer puts his book down again to stare at Olle who, after a few seconds, feels compelled to answer the question in that look. “You're brothers who share a close bond and that is something that transcends species.” Olle grins, “It's a good thing,” he says shaking his head before he goes back to his computer.

“Food?” Gabriel asks.

“Leftovers?” Olle responds.

“Sure,” Gabriel says and, with a snap, everything is on the table, hot food hot and cold food cold, with plates and forks and beer. 

The three of them eat in silence. Lucifer returns to his book, Olle to his research, and Gabriel pulls his phone out of his pocket and starts to play Candy Crush. By the time they finish eating and the battery on the laptop starts to die, it has gotten dark out. Olle leaves the angels to clean up and goes inside. Once the laptop is charging on the desk in the living room, Olle grabs another beer from the refrigerator before going upstairs to shower and collapse into bed. 

At some point, around midnight if his alarm clock can be trusted, Olle hears the angels coming up the stairs and going into the den, where Olle told Lucifer he could stay, before he passes out again. Hours later, the first light of morning streaming though the windows, he comes awake in a panic to find he has Lucifer pined to the bed with a knife at his throat; nothing that can hurt the angel but still. Gabriel kneels on the bed above his brother's head, calling to Olle calmly with his arms outstretched. Olle drops the knife and back peddles off the bed into the far corner of the room where it is still dark, “I'm sorry. Oh God, Lucifer, I'm so sorry,” he says quietly, breathlessly. “I didn't hurt you, did I?” he asks rubbing his hand through his hair and sliding down onto his ass in the corner of the room, knees bent, shaking. 

Lucifer is breathing heavy, eyes wide in shock, not fear, as he sits up on the edge of the bed. “I'm alright,” he says sliding off the bed, coming over to squat in the space between Olle's knees. “You didn't hurt me, not at all, only startled me. I'm fine. But you were having some sort of terrible nightmare. Are you okay?”

Gabriel is standing back, watching the two of them, he heard Olle calling out in his sleep and knew what the man was dreaming about; that was why he choose to leave him be, until he heard Lucifer say the big man's name and knew his brother was in trouble. Olle huffs a laugh and shakes his head before he says, “I'll be fine, I just,” he tilts his head back into the corner of the wall, “I just,” he looks past Lucifer then, at Gabriel, “need a shower and some coffee; then,” he starts to stand up slowly and Lucifer rises, backing away, “we can train. A hard days work to exhaust me and I'll sleep better tonight.”

With a nod, Lucifer goes out of the room quietly but Gabriel follows Olle as he heads for the Master Bathroom. “Was it the Balrog or just what I did to you?” Gabriel asks as Olle strips off his underwear and turns on the shower. “I heard you, I checked, it was all Holy Fire and pain.”

“Stay out of my head Gabriel,” the big man says angrily as he steps into the shower and shuts the door.

“Talk to me,” the angel says sadly, appearing fully clothed in the shower in front of Olle, “and maybe I won't have to.”

Olle sighs and pushes past the angel, into the water, leaning against the tile, so he is not looking at him, “I can't answer that because I can't forget anything so any time it happens is every time it happens and I can't tell the difference,” Olle says bitterly. He turns and pulls Gabriel into a fierce embrace. The angel's clothes are getting soaked but he hangs on, waiting for Olle to speak again. After a few minutes he does, pulling away to look down at the angel; he laughs, “You're getting soaked Gabe.”

Gabriel chuckles and, with a thought, his clothes are dry and folded on the bed. “Is it still whenever you're alone?” Gabriel asks burrowing deeper into Olle's chest, his hands around the man's waist.

“They vary in intensity and topic, but yeah, always,” he says sadly running his hands through Gabriel's shaggy auburn hair. “What do you expect after everything I've seen, everything I've done? I can't walk away from that unscathed, even without a soul.”

“Just because you don't walk around with it,” Gabriel says fiercely, looking up into Olle's dark hazel eyes, “doesn't mean you don't have a soul!” Olle smiles and shakes his head, about to protest, Gabriel is certain, so he shuts him up the only way he knows how, by locking their lips together. 

Gabriel jumps, wrapping his legs around the bigger man's waist, tilts his head forward, and deepens the kiss. Gabriel takes Olle's plump lower lip between his teeth and, when the man moans, Gabriel takes the opportunity to lick into his mouth. Olle wraps his hands around Gabrie's thighs and presses him into the shower wall while the angel refuses to let him breathe until the taste of stale sleep and terror in his mouth is replaced by rich spice and fertile earth mingled with his own burnt sugar sweetness. “You have a soul,” Gabriel says intently, both of them panting into each others mouths while the shower rains down on them.”You have a soul,” he says again before he uses the leverage this position gives him to force his way back into Olle's mouth. 

Olle turns and slides down on the bench at the back of the shower with Gabriel clinging to him, hands in his hair and mouth busy sucking along his jawline toward his ear. Olle moans when Gabe's mouth finds that tender spot under his ear where jaw meets neck. He rubs his hands up the angel's sides then down his back to cup his ass while Gabriel bites down on the curve of his neck at the shoulder before sucking a dark bruise into the skin there. 

Olle's eyes are shut tightly as he drinks in the feel of Gabriel pressed flush against him, the angel's hard length rubbing against his belly, hands in his hair, lips and teeth moving across his chest to the other side of his neck, and his legs locked around his waist. Olle squeezes the angel's ass, hard, pulling his checks apart so the painfully hard length of his own cock can slide between Gabriel's cheeks and nudge against his puckered hole. 

Gabriel buries his face against Olle's neck and groans at the contact before pulling back to focus his blown amber eyes on lust addled hazel to say, “I want you in me, now!” With a thought the angel has changed positions slightly to straddle Olle's cock. Using his knees to raise up and position his now slick hole over Olle's length, the angel starts to sink, slowly, down with a sigh as Olle arches his back and lets out an almost inhuman growl at the almost too tight heat engulfing him. 

Olle can't get any purchase against the wet tile of the shower so it is just Gabriel rolling his hips and grinding into him deeper and deeper while the angel groans, peppering Olle's chest with kisses and nibbling bites along his neck and jaw. The angle of Gabriel's hips with Olle's cock create delicious friction against his prostate and with every move his cock is rubbed flush against their torsos so the angel enjoys the ridiculously slow pace, taking the opportunity to mark up the big man's neck and chest before he crashes their mouths together again. 

“Move, Gabriel, please; just fucking move!” Olle pants into the angels mouth while he wraps his hands low around the angel's hips then lets out a gratified, sobbing, groan as Gabriel lifts up on his knees and rocks slowly back down the length of Olle's cock. He picks up the pace clinging to Olle's shoulders, ignoring the burn in his knees and the way the edge of the bench digs into his shins as they grunt and pant and growl their pleasure into the steam filled shower until Gabriel can't stand the pressure anymore and cums hard, painting Olle's hairy belly with ropes of sticky white fluid. 

As he wraps himself around Olle's neck he whispers, “Fuck me into the wall, Olle, please, make me cum again!” before he devours the big man's mouth, letting him suck on his tongue as it fucks into Olle's mouth eagerly. 

The clench of Gabriel tight and pulsing around his cock is making heat start to pool, warm and urgent, at the base of his spine so he takes the angel by the ass and stands to press him into the wall under the still hot water. Mouths still locked together, Gabriel wrapped tight around him, water falling over both of them like a warm summer thunderstorm, Olle sets a furious, brutal pace. Gabriel pulls out of their kiss to press their foreheads together while he leaves scratch marks along Olle's shoulders and is forced to brace one hand on the ceiling for leverage while Olle has both hands cupping Gabriel's ass as he thrusts. Breathing laboriously, grunting like a bull with every push, Olle feels Gabriel start to harden again between their bellies and buries his face in the angel's neck to pant, “I can't cum, not until you do, what do you need Gabe? What do you need? Fuck, I'm right there, what do you need?” 

Olle's pace never slows and Gabriel can feel his Grace start to swell and spread through his whole body. He can feel Olle's whole body vibrate with tension and need but he isn't sure what will tip him over so he just looks down at this giant of a man who is lighting him up inside and when there eyes lock he spirals into the abyss and says the first thing he thinks, “Fuck Olle, I love you! Keep going, don't stop, please don't stop!” As he cums, Grace pours out of him and directly into the man he is so wrapped up in; making Olle groan in blissed out agony and cum so deep inside of Gabriel the angel gets a feedback loop of his Grace filling him up inside along with Olle's cum. Olle is buried so deep inside of him that Gabriel feels the shallow jerking thrusts Olle uses to ride out his orgasm in his throat and he sighs as Olle takes his mouth in a series of slow, deep kisses before they both start to laugh as the only response to such intense pleasure. 

Olle doesn't put Gabriel down but he does turn around and lean against the wall as their laughter subsides and they both pant, foreheads pressed together, as they catch their breath. “That hasn't happened in a very, very long time,” Olle says with a smile as he presses forward to kiss Gabriel again, soft and slow.

“It's been a very, very long time since we've done this,” Gabriel says climbing down off of Olle and starting to shower. They are both purposefully ignoring what Gabriel said in the heat of the moment, it was the first time Gabriel ever said it, so Olle just watches him bathe while he tries to catch his breath and stop shaking. 

When he is clean, Gabriel leaves Olle alone to shower, and the big man can't help but wonder what he should have done differently to make this awkward feeling he has go away.


	25. Chapter 25

When he walks out of the bathroom, Olle notices Gabriel sprawled on his stomach in the bed, so he goes over to stretch himself out over the angel like a blanket. His head in the middle of his back, he tangles his hands in the angel's still damp hair. “Every time I've ever said those words to you,” Olle says resting his cheek between Gabriel's shoulder blades and speaking quietly, “it was never so you'd say them back and the fact that you haven't has never been an issue between us. I need to know, now, though, what I can do to make everything go back to how amazing it was right when you said it; before things got awkward. Because I still love you Gabriel, in so many tangled up ways I'm not sure even we have enough time to straighten them all out and examine them.” Olle kissed the back of his his neck and down his spinal column until he is pulled back on his elbows before he speaks again, “Tell me what I need to do. Please,” he says softly pressing his forehead into the angel's back before he lays back over him.

Gabriel lays there reeling, playing his conversation with Lucifer over and over in his mind; trying to figure out what he feels, why he said what he said, and what can be done to make it all go away. The weight of Olle on top of him, enveloping him, the sound of his voice washing over him, and his own uncertainty, ease the angel's mind a little and he can think more clearly. Not needing to breathe meant he was comfortable face down in the mattress but he turns his head to the side now to speak, “I don't know why I said it. It just, I looked at you and it came out.”

Olle lays there, still scratching his nails through Gabriel's hair, and says casually, “So it was just something you said during sex to get us both off, okay. I don't need it to be anything more than that Gabe. I just need it to not become a thing, because this,” he tugs on the angel's hair and wiggles his hips so Gabriel can feel Olle's cock nestled soft and warm under his ass, “is the most functional, lasting, honest, friendship I'm ever likely to have and I'd hate for something to happen to it.”

Gabriel shakes his head then and says again, “I don't know why I said it.” He rolls over then, Olle spread out around and on top of him, and puts his arm across Olle's shoulder, down his back, and his hand in his hair where the man's head rests now in the center of the angel's chest. Scratching his palm across the shortness of the back and sides of Olle's hair, Gabriel says, “The first time you told me you loved me, we had already known each other a long time. It was the last thing you said before the first time you died, before we knew you were immortal. That,” Gabriel says voice thick, even now, with emotion, “was the first time I cried. Your death embodied, for me, all the shit that was fucking up Creation at the time. Then you told me you didn't say it just so I would say it back. You said I probably wasn't even sure what love was or how it felt so it didn't matter if I ever said it back.”

“I never meant to say it the first time, a part of me knew I wasn't going anywhere but I was in so much pain and you had already started to cry; I don't know if I needed you to know or just wanted to make you feel better,” Olle says into the angel's chest.

“You were right when you said I didn't know what it was or how it felt; not when it wasn't about family. But I should have said it back to you then, because I loved you then, as much as I loved my brothers, my Father, my family.” They look at each other then, whiskey brown and hazel so stormy it is silver gray, and Gabriel is certain he can do whatever it is God brought him back to do, as long as Olle keeps looking at him with such perfect trust. “I love you,” he says again with conviction. “And that doesn't mean I need or want this,” he gestures between them, “to be anything more that it has ever been. And I'm not saying I feel it like I'm following some Heavenly order to love all of Creation, even if that's technically what you are.” They both laugh at that. “I guess the 'how' and 'why' and 'in what way' of it is as convoluted for me as it is for you. So, I say we get dressed and go do some training. I got my ass kicked at pool the other night so I get to go up against you first.”

Olle kisses him then, smile on his face, before he slides down to stand at the foot of the bed and say, “You tried to beat your brother at pool when he's spent time in Sam Winchester?” Olle chuckles, shaking his head, as he goes back through the bathroom to his closet. “Make the bed,” he calls out to the angel, who hasn't moved yet.

With a snap he is dressed, the bed is made, and he calls out, “I'm going to find Lucifer.”

**

In the den, Lucifer is behind the desk reading a book, one of the far too many Olle has in every available corner, but he looks up when Gabriel comes in. “I'm becoming far too familiar with what puts those dopey smiles on human faces,” Lucifer says turning back to his book. “Is that what you've been doing for the past hour?”

“I've got to get you comfortable enough with sex to try it,” Gabriel says sitting down on the couch facing the huge TV that was in Olle's apartment.

“I'm not a virgin, you know full well, Gabriel.” Lucifer manages to sound almost bored and he keeps reading his book, which, to Gabriel, just proves his point.

“First times don't count Luci, they're always weird and awkward, and you've never had sex just to enjoy it. That makes you a virgin.” Gabriel has no idea why this is so important to him, but his brother seems to be functioning on a higher than recent level these past couple of day and he is willing to push his luck a little bit and goad him. “You're vessel is kinda hot, I'm sure Olle, or Beth if you'd prefer, wouldn't mind; wanna give it a go? Kevin would probably have a conniption if you went near Linda but, hey, we can see what she has to say about it.” Gabriel has that patented Loki smirk on his face and endless laughter in his voice when he says it, so he just waits for his brother's reaction.

“Google has recently given me to understand not all people are given over to sexual proclivities, brother, and it struck a cord with me. Therefore, if you must know, consider this me 'coming out,' as it were, as a-sexual.” Lucifer closes his book then and starts for the door, “Are we ready to train? You lost a bet the other night so you're about to get your ass reamed for the second time today and I doubt you'll enjoy this one as much as the first.”

“There was no reaming, if you must know,” Gabriel says following him toward the door. “As for your coming out, hey, whatever floats your boat Luci.”

“We can't all be shallow and hedonistic little brother, Baz has the market cornered on that,” Lucifer says with a small smirk.

Gabriel's mood is greatly improved by this little exchange. Until twenty minutes later, that is, when he really does wish Olle were literally reaming him because the figurative kind has his mind racing, he is sweating, gasping, and grunting with effort but none of it is in a life affirming way. Archangel's, all angels, are masterful with bladed weapons because blades are all they have ever used in battle, besides Grace, but Olle is a marvel and Gabriel finds himself, more than once, giving ground unwillingly.

“You're amazing,” Gabriel says when they walk across the floor to where Lucifer sits holding out a water bottle for Olle.

“You're out of practice,” Olle says swallowing half the water before pouring the rest on his head.

“I've been dead,” Gabriel says taking Olle's bottle and, with thought, filling it with whiskey before draining it.

Olle chuckles, “You spent too long as Loki, snapping up whatever you wanted and fighting for nothing.” Gabriel makes a face and Olle knows he upset the angel but, he also knows, the truth sometimes hurts. Shaking water out of his hair, he looks down at Lucifer and says, “Think you can kick my ass Morningstar?”

Lucifer looks hesitant, uncertain, and a little afraid but he stands up and says, “I can try, I suppose, but,” he falters looking confused, “what happens if I actually do manage to hurt you?” 

“Easy,” Olle says taking the now water filled bottle Gabriel hands back to him, “you heal me and we keep going.”

“Oh,” Lucifer says taking the blade his brother hands him, “I've never done that before.”

Olle lowers the water from his mouth and thinks, 'He hasn't has he?' He lays his weapons down and says, “We can start hand-to-hand, any damage you do will be easy to fix and Gabriel can show you how. Just,” Olle says seriously, “don't rip my head off or anything; we'll be here for days waiting on me if that happens.”

“What do you mean?” Lucifer asks remembering how instantaneous Olle's resurrections were during the war. 

Gabriel answers as Olle makes his way back to the middle of the training area, “With everything pulled apart like it is now, most of the Universe's magick is contained in the fairy realms, and it takes him time to move that much magick onto this plane to work himself a body out of nothing.”

Lucifer shakes his head and mumbles, “Keep body intact,” as he squares off against the man who towers over even his impressive 6' 2”. As Lucifer sizes the man up, he has to ask, “How damn tall are you anyway? Giants have been extinct for a long fucking time.”

“I'm 6' 8”,” Olle says with a laugh. “Giants were like teen feet tall. I'm Scandinavian; I'm not that much taller than normal.”

“How do the two of you even fit together?” Lucifer calls out to his brother.

Gabriel laughs and calls back, “Kick his ass Olle!”


	26. Chapter 26

They both chuckle before Lucifer throws the first punch and Olle deflects easily. For almost an hour they never stop and they never slow down. Lucifer keeps pace with Olle easily, and, although he realizes he is out of practice, Creation's first enforcer doesn't give an inch. Olle finds himself starting to give ground near the end simply because the angel doesn't tire, and he can tell Lucifer is not happy with his own short comings but he hopes that will make him work harder. Olle has taken a hell of a beating, no pun intended, and when Lucifer makes contact with his ribs, Olle crumbles as the already cracked bones are forced into his lungs. 

Olle falls to the ground and starts to wheeze and writhe in pain. His chest cavity fills with air, causing his other lung to collapse, and as he lands on his left side he feels one of his broken ribs pierce the fluid filled sac surrounding his heart. Lucifer looks down in horror and mumbles, “Michael,” so quietly Olle would not have heard it if pain hadn't slowed everything down around him and made the world go quiet. In that instant he feels Gabriel's hand on his chest and, in the next, he is perfectly fine laying on the ground taking a couple of deep breaths to calm his nerves. 

“I lost that round,” Olle says cheerily, sitting up and looking around for what he believes will be a smug, if apologetic, Lucifer. He finds the angel, sitting Indian style next to him, hands wrapped around his head, eyes tightly shut, rocking. That is when Olle realizes what he heard and he spins to face the archangel saying, “Lucifer, can you hear me? I need you to open your eyes a look around.” The archangel shakes his head vigorously and Olle continues in a low, steady voice, “Whatever it is you're seeing Lucifer, it's not really here anymore. Try opening your eyes, take some deep breaths, look around and tell me what you see.” Gabriel reaches out for his brother and Olle moves almost as fast as the angel can to take hold of his arm while he shakes his head slowly and the angel sits down beside them. 

“It's black, like there's nothing,” Lucifer says eyes still tight shut but he is breathing slowly and his voice is steady, if pained. “Michael is laughing, he was standing over me just a few seconds ago. I can't see anything. That's when the pain stops and I can feel, I can feel everything. The Darkness, this is the Darkness and Michael is overjoyed. He's let me up from where I was trapped or he's ignoring me and I've gotten away again; I don't know. That soulless thing he likes to walk around in sometimes is just as calculating as he is but they're not separate today so I don't have to worry about both of them.” He stops and Olle thinks he will open his eyes but he just rocks for a few seconds before he continues, “I feel it now, before Michael, the Cage is broken; it's like a breath of fresh air in a stale room. I can't let him get out of here, not if she's really out there now. I won't be able to stop them both again. I reach out; I can feel the vessel's heartbeat. When the world comes back into view my hand is buried in his chest and, when Michael throws me off of him, I come away with a piece of bone.” He is rocking again, violently, and crying. “I didn't know what else to do!” he screams as he leans all the way forward to put his head in Olle's lap and wrap his arms around the man's waist.

Olle cards one hand through the angel's hair and rubs the other in slow circles along his back while he pushes away his own emotions to use a steady voice, “It is over now Lucifer. Michael can't hurt anyone ever, ever again and what you did was the only thing, the only thing, you could have done to save yourself, to save Creation.” Olle keeps rubbing his back while the angel cries and Gabriel watches, crying as well. “It's okay Lucifer, it's okay now. You're safe and I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry.”

After a few minutes the angel stops crying and lets go of Olle's waist but he just shifts around to lay in the man's lap instead of getting up. He reaches out his arm now, to Gabriel, who takes his hand and lays down in the floor, head also in Olle's lap, so they are face to face. Olle removes himself from the room when a snap from Gabriel's free hand replaces his lap with a pillow. 

**

A couple of hours later, Lucifer finds Olle in the kitchen, showered and eating, while he looks at the jobs Gabriel found and scribbles in a notebook. “Olle,” Lucifer says sitting down across from him at the table, “are you okay?”

Olle had stopped what he was doing to focus on the angel when he heard his name. He chuckles now, low and amused. “When am I ever not?” he asks almost sadly. “I've had worse, much, much worse, done to me with intent.”

Lucifer shakes his head, “I guess you're right.” He looks at Olle seriously then, “Gabriel,” he sounds shy, like he doesn't want to get his brother in trouble, “he told me about you, about Azazel, about Alistair.”

Olle shakes his head, “You only ever twisted the one soul, Lilith, right?” Lucifer nods and Olle clasps his hands tight together on the table in front of him, knuckles white, “Over 3 million of them lay on my table in Hell. Each one of them loyal to Azazel when they got up, loyal to you. Then there was Alistair.” Olle huffs a disgusted laugh and bounces his hands on the table, squeezing them even tighter together, before he goes on. “Any pain I have to suffer, from now until the end of all things, won't be punishment enough for Alistair.”

“How long,” Lucifer asks, “how long did Azazel cut in to you in Hell before you couldn't stand it any more? How long before he agreed to what you asked of him?”

“Over three thousand years had passed here, according to Gabriel, when I got back.” Olle gets up then and goes to the refrigerator for a beer, bringing Lucifer one as well. Dropping back in his seat he asks, “Where's your brother?”

The Devil rolls with the change of topic. “He's downstairs, training,” Lucifer says with a smile. “I had seen Beth holding back, but I didn't realize how much.”

Olle laughs, “I'm pretty sure she'll say she was building up slowly so he could think she was improving while he got better.” He takes a long pull on the cold bottle before going on, “I'd say too, against anything but Amara, you're all more than qualified to be left to your own devices. It's good he knows he needs to get better, it's good he wants to.” 

“You're a machine,” Lucifer says taking a slow drink of the cold beer. 

Olle laughs at that, grinning, “I've got just as much physical strength and speed as either of you,” he takes a drink then shrugs, “but my body is still only human. I can get hurt like a human and I heal like a human. I've even injured myself accidentally trying to move too quickly and I'm pretty sure I broke my hand in several place earlier when I broke your nose.”

“You can't heal yourself?” Lucifer asks curious.

Olle shakes his head, “Grace is like,” he fumbles for a minute before he finds a word, “pure. You're pure Creation; the four of you, Michael, Gabriel, Legion, and you, were molded out of nothing by God at the moment of the Big Bang. While I was being torn apart the four of you were being put together. I can project that kind of raw power because that is what Creation is made of, but I can't use it; not in this body, not in any body.”

Looking around, Lucifer says, “Your use of magick is beyond passable.”

“My soul was created by two people whose family history contained high magick. It is a part of me I can use. A part of me I'm not ashamed of.”

“Why would you be ashamed of your soul?” Lucifer asks astounded. “Your soul made this, everything, Creation, possible!”

“I'm a still birth kept alive by high magick, accidentally at that, who became a suicide.” Olle sits his empty bottle down, “The shame of it all,” he says quietly, “is I still don't want to be here.” 

“Then why?” the angel asks desperately. “Why are you?”

“Because your Father won't let me be anywhere else,” he says sadly. “Because I don't look around and see my soul, I see everyone else's, and I can't bring myself not to care what happens to all of them.” Olle rubs a hand over his face and huffs a laugh that is trying to hide a sob, “Not just humanity, Luce, I see the life and breath and soul of everything and I want to save it all with a longing I can't even understand.”

Lucifer has no idea what to say so he turns his bottle up while he pretends Olle isn't crying.


	27. Chapter 27

After a moment the big man takes a deep breath and stands, shaking himself out, to turn and say, “Do you think you'll be okay to train with your brother if I'm gone?”

Lucifer looks nervous but only says, “What if I hurt him?”

“Then you fix him,” Olle says pulling a blade from his belt. “You're going to learn how, right now,” he takes Lucifer's wrist with his free hand and pulls him over to the sink where he cuts a deep gash in his left forearm from elbow to wrist. “Now,” he is breathing deep and slow through the pain while his arm gushes blood into the sink, “it's all about physics and molecules. I'll bleed out in a matter of minutes if you don't do something.”

“What do I do?” Lucifer asks. “How do I fix it?” he sounds frightened but Olle's steady voice, even when he is clearly in pain, helps.

“Even,” he breaths hard through his clenched teeth, “even when all my molecules aren't with me you can still see them, see that they belong to me, right?” Lucifer nods so Olle goes on, “Touch me and use your Grace to gather up all my molecules and put them back, not just back in me but back in order like pieces of a puzzle.” Lucifer reaches out with one finger to Olle's forehead and, in an instant, all the blood, on the knife, on Olle's skin, in the sink, and down the drain, is gone and his arm is knit back together like nothing was ever wrong. Olle smiles and flexes his hand rotating his arm. “Perfect,” he says quietly with a huge smile. “That was absolutely perfect!”

Lucifer smile shyly and says, “Thank you,” barely making eye contact. Olle goes back to the table and sits back down at his computer but Lucifer wonders, “How did you know how to teach me how to do that?” He is leaning against the sink waiting for an answer.

“During the war, as you were all spilling out of Heaven, coming here, I rallied Gabriel, Castiel, Balthazar, and Legion, to take up arms against the demons and the angels. Cain and Abel's children, sons and daughters, joined the cause as well as the twelve sons of Eve and many of the fairy creatures. This,” Olle says shaking his head while Lucifer makes his way back to his seat, “was before you were cast from Heaven. You and Michael never set foot on Earth during the war, but there were angels and demons, Cain and his early knights, Lilith; they were all waging war amongst themselves and killing us in the process. Eve's children are next to impossible to kill, so are many of the faye. I hadn't realized I was truly immortal yet. I was injured, saving Cain's oldest son from Lilith. As I lay dying, Gabriel put his hand on me and willed me well again; it was the first time it had ever been done. He taught Castiel and Balthazar and it was the only thing Michael not only let them keep but spread to every other angel and created the Rit Zien. He added, of course, the ability to twist its purpose to corrupt and injure and kill with a thought.”

“Ever the shrewd General,” Lucifer says sadly, “he could steal from his enemies and twist for his own purpose.” 

“Will you continue to train if I leave?” Olle asked seriously. “You need to be in the best form you've ever been in; better even than you were in the beginning because, I can tell you now, God isn't going to save us or help us. We are all alone here.”

Lucifer nods his head steadily, “You're right, I know you're right, and I will. I will continue to train and I will get better. I don't know, though,” he says looking at Olle seriously, “if it will help. She doesn't have a plan and she is probably twice as crazy as I ever was and even more ruthless than Dean or Cain ever were. She has no conscience, no soul, and no love for anything except,” but he trails off there like he just realized something.

“Except?” Olle asks curious.

“One of the first reasons Michael and I fell out was the Mark. Father forged the Mark and gave it to me before we trapped her, used it to trap her, bound me to her and my willingness to use that bond to send her away was how we were able to do it in the first place.”

“I never knew that,” Olle says in awe. “I never knew how He did it. I wasn't even aware enough of myself to understand what I was, what anything was, so I had no idea.”

“Our bond,” Lucifer said, “enticed her away from Michael. If Dean was the last to bear the Mark, she would feel the same bond with him.”

“But he no longer carries the Mark, it was destroyed,” Olle says seriously.

“It wouldn't matter. I still feel it,” he says rubbing his chest, “the scar where it used to be. He'll feel it, he'll feel a connection to her. That could be dangerous. I could see how false, blank, she was and I had no interest in anything but saving everyone, saving Michael, from her influence. Dean is human, and far more easily influenced by a pretty face and a peaceful feeling than I could ever be.” Lucifer looks over at Olle curiously, “You bore the Mark for millennia, you didn't feel any of that?”

“I did, and I did unspeakable things in the end, but I never found that peace you and Cain spoke of. Giving in to the desire raging through me was giving in to your desire, but your lack of satiation made me impossible to appease.”

Lucifer gasps, “What?”

“I don't need to ask questions, I can look at something and tell you what it is; angel, demon, shifter, vampire, ghoul, fairy, doesn't matter; I just know. I feel the ebb and flow of Creation on all planes, at all times, always. It hums in the back of my head, and if I don't concentrate, constantly, I'd lose my fucking mind. That's one of the reasons I constantly want a human body; putting my consciousness somewhere there is, literally, only so much room means I have to make choices about what I focus on. With the Mark, I never felt her, but you were a smithy boom in the back of my brain, thrumming through my blood, constantly. It connected me to you; your anger and betrayal and desire to purge. It overcame me in the end, despite your brother's best efforts, and giving the Mark back to Cain, pulling the layers of Creation apart, became the only way to stop me from destroying it.”

“Because it is a curse of the soul,” Lucifer says realization dawning. “I wondered, even then, why you were so willing to do all the things you did. I thought it was because you were working with Gabriel to build the Cage.”

“I was,” Olle says with a laugh, “but when I turned on Gabriel, it was because of your desire in my head. When I came back to him, it was because of him,” Olle says seriously.

“You love him,” Lucifer says.

Olle laughed, shaking his head, “I do, but that is not what I mean. You want me to say I'm in-love,” Olle used little air quotes with a snicker, “but it isn't that simple. He pulled me out of my own head and back to reality. The fog a warrior gets in battle is the misty prison that lays over your soul when you bear the Mark. I don't have a soul, though,” Olle shrugs. “He was able to pull me out of my own head and I could concentrate on other things while the Mark contaminated Creation; concentrate on building the Cage, imprisoning you, and curing myself of the Mark so Creation could heal.”

“For that to happen you had to create alternate realities?” Lucifer wants to know. 

Olle goes the the refrigerator for another beer, handing Lucifer one as he sits back down. “The Magickal places were harder to contaminate because magick will always try to maintain a purity, a balance. The spread of contamination through Humanity, though, was vast. The only thing Gabriel could think to do was pull everything apart so it would, at least, give us more time. Like using photo-shop to pull all the different images in one picture apart and printing them on tracing paper then lining them back up.” Olle takes a long pull on his beer before saying, “It nearly killed him and Legion. Gabriel tricked you, locking you in the Cage, and Cain took back the Mark; allowing me to recover and Creation to heal.”

“But,” Lucifer wants to know, “what happened when you pulled the world apart?”

“Evolution. Everything on every new plane got to start brand new. Cain and Abel's bloodline was held in stasis by Michael, until humanity once again evolved to a point it was possible to let them return to Earth. Every angel was returned to Heaven and made to forget the details, made to forget how it all came about, what came before this new beginning. This new evolution was what caused Michael to being his hunt for Gabriel and that caused Legion, and many of the Grigori, to rebel against Heaven and disappear.”

“Do you know what happened to Legion?” Lucifer asks curiously.

Olle laughs and rubs the back of his neck and scratches through his head, “Legion is a story for a time when I can tell all of you at once. It will be one none of you believe unless I can prove it; and I can't right now.”

Lucifer looks at him curiously but shakes his head in acceptance. “So, where are you going? And when are you leaving?”

“I'll probably leave in the morning,” Olle says closing his laptop and gathering the notes on the table. “I'm going to see about these hunts your brother found and I'm going to search for information we all could have overlooked.”

“What do you mean?” Lucifer asks following Olle through the house, upstairs to the office, where he pulls a stack of pages from the wireless printer.

“Gabriel was reading the Supernatural books, the published works of the prophet, and he asked me, he said there had to be more to it than what happened in the books.”

“And you think there is?” Lucifer asks sitting down across from Olle in the office while he organizes papers and makes more notes.

“I think a publisher won't publish everything a writer writes because it may not sell. You read them, right?” Olle asks casually.

Lucifer shakes his head, “You're right, there are half truths and missing things in the books. But, does that mean Chuck wrote the truth and the publisher changed it?”

“An editor wants a book to be successful, and that may mean changing certain things. Sam had been guzzling demon blood for over a year before Dean found out about it and the reader found out about it when he did. Not to mention, Chuck didn't stop having visions while Dean was in Hell, I'm sure, so why didn't he write any of that down?” Olle packs his papers and electronics away in his ever present satchel before getting up and heading back downstairs. 

Lucifer follows, considering what Olle said before he answers. “The books are geared toward making Sam the hero,” he says finally. “Writing about Sam's relationship with Ruby and the demon blood would make him look unsympathetic.” Olle nods his head with a smile as they continue through the house and back downstairs to the armory. 

As he starts going through his weapons, gathering guns and knives and ammunition, Olle watches Lucifer watching him and wonders how much better the angel is really doing. He had avoided asking about the panic attack his injury had brought on, but he is curious if this slowly recovering, seemingly well adjusted, archangel is real or just a cleaver ruse to make Gabriel, and everyone else, feel better. He tries to think of how he can get a better assessment of Lucifer's mental state but, short of taking him out into the real world, he has no idea. 

Olle hands Lucifer the bag of carefully selected weapons he gathered before saying, “Can you take these and put them in the back seat of the truck for me please? I'm going to go talk to Gabriel.” 

Lucifer shakes his head before moving toward the door, “I'll be in my room, reading,” he says disappearing upstairs.


	28. Chapter 28

Olle moves through the basement toward the training mats where he can hear Gabriel moving through a series of exercises. Olle knows Beth would have stressed the point of training being to improve their attachment to their bodies and their use of speed and strength instead of Grace. As he makes his way to the small bench near the mat, he is happy to see the archangel's movements are focused on the use of his vessel. 

“I know you won't physically tire,” Olle says sitting down to watch, “but mental exhaustion is a real thing, even for angels. You should rest.”

Gabriel finishes an intricate exercise involving both his archangel broad sward and his generic shorter blade before he sends them away and comes over to straddle the bench next to Olle. “Where is Lucifer?”

“I sent him to put some things in the truck and he said he would be in his room, reading,” Olle says turning to face Gabriel. “You've gotten better just since this morning. I shouldn't have made fun of you with the remark about snapping. I'm sorry,” Olle says seriously.

Gabriel waves it off with a 'pfft' noise before saying, “I knew Beth was trying to build me up slowly, I knew she was holding back, but you showed me just how much I'd let myself go. I needed the kick in the ass; I'm just glad you both knew enough to know I'd take it better from you. And,” he says realizing something he thinks is profound, “that was so sexist! You'd think I'd spent enough time with the pagans to get over that little Heavenly hang-up.” Gabriel shakes his head like he is really disappointed in himself.

Olle laughs, “I'm pretty sure it's just that after everything you went through with Kali, Beth didn't want to let you get your ass kicked by a girl when you needed to be motivated not, as it were, emasculated.” Gabriel grins and Olle chuckles, “It's not like there is anything about me kicking your butt that could be taken as you not living up to expectation. When you don't use your Grace, we are pretty evenly matched in speed and strength and I do have an undeniable advantage when it comes to reach and leverage.”

Gabriel shakes his head with a snort but says, “So, you're packing up to leave?” He moves from the bench, headed through the basement toward the armory, while he keeps talking, “Chuck or those ghosts I found?”

“Both,” Olle says following Gabriel upstairs. At the top of the steps, Olle asks, “Did he say anything about what happened after I left?”

“I know you want to be able to fix him, Olle, I do,” Gabriel says with a sigh, “and he is doing better. He said he was sorry, he was embarrassed I think, but he wouldn't talk to me about it.” 

Gabriel turns to the kitchen and Olle reaches out for him, taking him by the arm he pulls the angel around to look at him, “I know he's getting better Gabe,” Olle says sincerely. “And I don't expect him to get better overnight. I know Post-Traumatic Stress when I see it, I was fucked up pretty bad when I got back from Afghanistan the first time, before any of this,” he gestures in an all encompassing way. Olle sighs and goes on, “He's doing great around us, because he's comfortable around us, but that doesn't mean he's ready to be out there; and we need him to be ready.” 

“I know,” Gabriel says with a tired sigh. “I was so optimistic considering how well he'd been doing.” He has tears in his eyes and his voice breaks as he goes on, “When I saw him today, all curled in on himself, reliving the Hell Michael put him through,” He stops, unable to go on, and Olle pulls the angel into his chest, wraps his arms around him, smooths his hands through the angel's hair, and rubs slow circles into the small of his back. After a few minutes, Gabriel pulls back and, wiping his eyes, goes on, “What can I do, while you're gone, to help him? What helped you?”

“He said he would let you train with him, and I think that will be good for him, but no weapons yet. When we add weapons, no angel blades. If he accidentally hurts one of you, or has a flashback and accidentally kills one of you, he'll be lost.” The angel nods his agreement, going into the kitchen. 

Olle leads them through the butler's pantry, and into the dining room, which is where he built an apothecary workshop. There is a huge bay window along the front of the house where herbs hang drying, and built-ins along the back wall, full of thousands of types of ingredients. He goes over to one of the four long tables in the room and starts organizing a large crate full of jars, sacks, pouches, and bags to be placed in the truck before he leaves. 

“What are you doing?” Gabriel asks curious. 

“I'm leaving tomorrow morning. I have no idea how long I'll be gone, where I'll end up, or what I'll end up hunting. I've got to be sure I have everything I need with me.” Olle looks at the crate, satisfied, before he goes over to the window, opens the window seat, and pulls out a five gallon gas can.

“What's that?” Gabriel asks coming up behind him.

“Holy Oil,” he says putting the red plastic jug on the table with the box of herbs. “I should probably test it,” he says thoughtfully.

“I'm not volunteering for that,” the angel says stepping back, hands in the air in surrender.

Olle laughs, “I wasn't going to ask you to. I've been making it for centuries, but this is the first batch I've made recently.” Olle looks thoughtful, “I'll have to find a way to see if it works.”

Gabriel pours a small amount out into an empty jar before saying, “Got a lighter?” Olle hands him a book of matches out of the box on the table and Gabriel holds the jar in his hand and sets the oil on fire watching as the jar starts to glow blue. He snuffs the flame by placing the lid on the jar and sitting it down. Once the oil stops glowing the flame dies out and, pouring the oil back in the gas can, the archangel says, “It's perfect.” Olle looks a question at him, Gabriel laughs before answering, “The oil absorbs the Grace of the angel, cutting it off and trapping it with the fire. Once the fire is started, it is sustained by Grace, Holy Fire will burn in a vacuum, even under water, because it doesn't need oxygen.”

Olle nods his head, “I'd never thought about it that way. But,” he asks like it just occurred to him, “how did the sprinklers get you out of the warehouse after you told the boys who you were?” 

“They pulled it out of Sam's ass,” the angel laughs.

“It wasn't Holy Oil,” Olle says as it dawns on him, “I know you were going to tell them, but...” Gabriel shrugs grabbing the box and helping Olle get everything to the truck and organized. 

Olle comes into the kitchen and goes straight for a beer; handing Gabriel one, he asks, “You guys want to eat? We'll have to go out or get take away, I'm out of food.” Gabriel just shakes his head so Olle scrambles himself the last three eggs with a chunk of sharp cheese diced up in them, uses the heel ends of bread for toast, and salvages most of an avocado to mash up and smear on the toast. It is actually a lot better than he expected it to be but, then again, it could be that he hasn't eaten much today.


	29. Chapter 29

While Olle was cooking, Gabriel disappeared into the house, to parts unknown; most likely, Olle suspects, upstairs to sit with his brother or farther upstairs to the attic where he can watch TV or play pool. Olle goes through the house, double checking he has everything he thinks he might need, before going upstairs to his bedroom to pack a duffel. Once his clothes are by the door, including his two least expensive summer suits in a garment bag, he goes into his private office and drops into his desk chair. He needs to grab some cash, his stash of fake I. D. s, and credit cards, but he pulls out his phone and calls Beth's number instead.

After the first four rings he thinks it will go to voicemail, but, on the fifth, she picks up, “Hey, sorry, I'm just getting off work.”

Olle looks at his watch, it's just after ten here so it's just after eleven there, and says, “I didn't even know you were working tonight; sorry.”

She laughs into the phone and says, “It's okay. What's up?” 

Olle draws a blank suddenly, has no idea why he called, and says the first thing that comes to mind, “Gabriel said 'I love you' this morning while we were fucking in the shower.”

“Did he mean it?” she asks cautiously. It's something they had never thought about, but when he heard it this morning it was amazing and he knows she is just as shocked and excited and worried about it as he was when it happened.

“He did,” Olle says. “Or,” he goes on nervously, “he said he did. Said he had for a long time, said he should have told us right after the first time we told him.”

“So,” she says curious, “are we in-love now instead of just loving him? Because that's not how I feel and if I'm going to be hit with in-love the next time my head gets knocked in and I gotta respawn like I'm the Masterchief, I'd like to know now.” She is trying to be funny, but they have no idea how this works, if they are so separate that is how it will happen. It is a valid question, and an even more valid concern. If Olle is in-love but Beth is not then will both or neither of them be in-love if they are forced to make themselves anew?

“Not in-love,” Olle says seriously, “not anymore than we were before anyway.” He thinks for a moment before he answers her unasked question, “I don't think we'll have to worry about getting our relationships crossed unless we are both gone at the same time. When that happens,” because he is sure it will be soon enough, “we will just have to wait and see how our consciousness unfolds.”

“It's good we're not ruining our relationship with the best friend we've ever had over the idea of being in-love,” Beth says seriously. “I couldn't imagine him ever being alive and us not knowing more about each other than anyone else ever has or will or could.”

Olle laughs, “Yeah, that's kinda what we both decided this morning.” Beth laughs and the conversation falls silent for a few minutes before Olle goes on, “I'm leaving tomorrow. Gabe caught me a couple cases and I'm going to ransack Chuck's existence. I may need your new found skills as a hacker. I'm also gonna bring you everything I can find and I'll need it organized into some semblance of sense.”

“What's making you chase Chuck now? He's not going to help us any more than He already has by bringing the them back; you know that.”

“I know,” Olle says, “but Gabe, and Lucifer, pointed out that not everything that happened is accurately represented in the books. What if there were first drafts, notes, files, unpublished books? Things we may need to know, or things that could help us, that we've all overlooked by not chasing this lead?”

Beth has to admit, that had yet to occur to her, but it was a valid assumption. “Just bring me what you find and I'll organize it. Published versus unpublished, chronology, edited, and unedited; whatever.”

“Great, Beth, thanks.” 

“So, when is Gabriel coming back to Linda's?” she asks.

“I don't know,” he says leaning back in his chair and running his hand through his hair. “With me being gone, someone needs to stay with Luce. He's been doing really, really well these past couple days. He's talking, asking questions, being funny,” Olle laughs. “But,” he gets serious, “while we were training today, he had a pretty bad flashback of what happened when he killed Michael right as the Darkness was being set free.” Beth makes a 'what a shame' noise through the phone and Olle can almost see her shaking her head. He smiles to himself, with the exact shake of his head before he goes on, “What has Linda said about moving?”

“We've decided, I put my notice in today, the end of the month. But,” she says, “if you need anyone before then or you don't want Gabe to come back to Linda's that's fine. We're doing okay. Even Kevin is doing okay. If anything changes, getting the two of them back here is as easy as a prayer or a phone call.” 

“Great,” Olle says.

“How was he today?” she asks nonchalantly. “Before the flashback, I mean. He trained with you?”

“He was good, better than Gabriel, fast and confident and lethal. We kept pace in hand-to-hand and, after about an hour nonstop, I finally started to give ground. He fractured my ribs and, what brought on the flashback actually, his second shot drove them into my heart and lungs.” Olle's voice gets stern then, “You've been holding back with them, though. Why?”

Beth sounds contrite, “Balthazar is never going to be as good as the other two, he just can't be because he isn't an archangel. He's at the top of his game now, though, and I don't have to hold back with him any more. I just have to pace myself and remember what the top of his game looks like. Gabriel is improving by the second, though, and I didn't want him to look at me and think of Kali; it was better that you kick his ass, at least your bigger than he is.” 

Olle laughs at that and says, “I told him he'd spent too much time as Loki, not fighting, using his powers to get him what he wanted. I shouldn't have been so blunt but it seems like it worked. He spent most of the day training. I'm going to see if he'll go another round with me tomorrow before I head to Ohio.”

Beth laughed, a deep happy sound, “We're in trouble aren't we?”

Olle laughs too, “Probably a lot, yeah,” he says with a sigh.

“He's not going anywhere, right?” she asks worried, frightened. “They aren't going anywhere, right?”

“You tell me,” he says like he needs her to tell him she believes they'll all be okay because if either of them think it ends any other way the other will know. Which is exactly what is going on.

“Nothing is going to take any of them away from us again. Not Amara, not Sam and Dean Winchester, not even God,” she says with fire and steel in her voice. “We will help them find a way to fix this and they will all, all, be okay.”

“I'm so tired of helping them fix what they break, Beth, so absolutely exhausted by it,” the weariness in his voice is unfathomably old and she feels it as deeply as he does, but he has to say it to someone so he talks to himself; she understands. With a deep sigh he says, “I'm going to let you go. I'll bring you what I find. I'll let you know how it goes in the morning.”

“We're going to be okay, Olle; we've never been given any other choice.” She is, quietly, stating fact, with resignation born of infinity, and they disconnect without another word.


	30. Chapter 30

Olle gets up and pulls open the safe. Taking out the small metal lockbox inside, he dials in the combination to sort through his stash of false identification and credit cards before throwing $5,000 cash in the box, locking the lid, and setting it on the desk. Before he shuts the wall-safe, Olle double checks the demon and angel proofing sigils carved and painted inside the safe and makes sure the small pouch containing the vile of Michael's Grace is still hidden in the back, behind more money and another lockbox. He thinks, after what Gabriel told him about Holy Fire earlier, about getting a fireproof portable safe and locking the Grace in Holy Fire, but that seems like an overreaction at this stage so, while it is safe for now, he shuts the safe and, taking his things, goes back to his room. 

Once Olle double checks his room for anything he might have missed, he takes everything downstairs and out to the truck. He turns the light on in the garage and goes through everything meticulously; the toolbox in the bed, the storage under the rear seat, the rear floorboard 'coolers', even the front console; before he is satisfied he has everything he needs. Once he comes back inside, he goes from room to room picking up his tablet, laptop, i-pod, cables, chargers, extra storage, different headphones, and the two notebooks he was taking notes in the past few days before cramming it all in his now ever present satchel and setting it in the front floorboard of the truck before he locks all the doors, turns off all the lights, and goes upstairs. 

**

In the hallway outside his bedroom he stops to look over at the door leading into the den, Lucifer's room. For a few moments he is lost as to what he is even thinking before he makes an unconscious decision and goes over to knock on the angel's door. 

“Yes?” Lucifer's voice comes through the thick wood clearly and Olle opens the door and steps inside. The archangel is sitting on the couch with, he notices with a smile, books spread everywhere. Many of them are ones he has taken off the shelves downstairs to read, but there are all manner of books slowly filling the empty shelves in here. “Did you need something?” the angel asks looking up from what Olle realizes is one of his many journals.

“No,” he says stepping inside to close the door but not moving further into the room, it isn't his anymore. “I was actually looking for Gabe, thought he'd be in here with you.” 

Lucifer smirks, folding his finger into his book to mark his place, “He is determined to beat me at pool so he is upstairs, probably,” he says with affection, “attempting to devise a way to cheat that I won't notice.”

Olle laughs moving further into the room, past Lucifer, to lean on the desk. “That sounds like him.” The Devil nods, turning into the corner of the couch to face him, before the doctor goes on, “I'm leaving for Loveland tomorrow and I was hoping you'd both agree to let me have another crack at you before I go.”

“You're going to sleep, what, five hours, then spar for four, then drive almost ten?” Lucifer sounds skeptical.

Olle laughs, “I'm jumping head first into the deep-end of the 'being a hunter means being exhausted' pool.”

“I can see that,” he says seriously. “Why do you want to exhaust yourself?”

“I want to know you'll both be able to continue working together once I'm gone. I want to know you won't shut down again if you accidentally hurt one of us, and I want to make sure I wasn't wrong earlier when I saw a marked improvement in your brother, after his hours of practice.” Olle sighs, “Everyone else will be here at the end of the month, but it's important you both keep working. I need you front line ready and, because of circumstance, neither of you are.” Lucifer shakes his head like he is disappointed in himself before Olle goes on, “I don't blame either of you, but learning to work without your Grace is important. Even if we never have to actually do battle with Amara, I need to know you can.”

“What about you?” Lucifer asks. “What about Sam and Dean, Castiel?”

“Dean,” Olle says moving to sit on the other end of the couch, “is a brute the likes of which even Cain never became; I'm pretty sure, with the right motivation, he could rip me apart. Sam is a machine, but he'll never be what his brother is.”

“Sam's not a killer,” Lucifer says seriously. “He doesn't have it in him to be judge, jury, and executioner.”

Olle nods, “I picked up on that when we met. Castiel, if I can get them to accept you all, and have you or Gabriel make him remember everything Naomi and Michael made him forget, will be a force; you know that. Balthazar was never as good as Cas. Cas bested Cain in battle more than once during the war and Gabriel appointed him leader of the garrison before Michael replaced him with the ever loyal Anna.”

“Anna Milton, Anna?” Lucifer asks skeptical of her loyalty.

Olle nods, “I don't know what broke her, what made her fall, but even then she was eerily focused on saving Dean.”

“You think she was in-love with Michael?”

“I think she was,” Olle says shaking his head. “When she was taken back to heaven, and Naomi dug her claws into her, I don't think it worked the way they wanted. I think Michael's rejection is what sent her back in time to try to kill John and Mary. I think that's why she chose 1978 instead of just going back and killing them as babies, she wanted Mary to die while she was pregnant with Dean. It was a giant 'fuck you' to Michael.”

“So that's why she seduced Dean, the closest to Michael she could get.” Olle nods and Lucifer shakes his head, “I just don't understand what sex does to people.” 

Olle laughs, “It isn't sex, Luce,” he laughs again, “it's love and you, of all beings in Creation, beside your Father, you should know what it can do to you.”

“What does that mean?” he asks confused and a bit defensive.

Olle turns to the archangel seriously, “Love, angel, is what got you to accept the Mark and trap the Darkness. Love, and your need.” He pauses at the look on the angel's face, “Believe it or not, love is a need Lucifer. Your need to be loved and to love, and your feelings of having your love rejected, were your main motivations; even if your actions were twisted and motivated by the Mark.”

“Gabriel always loved me,” he says sadly. “Why, then,” he goes on ashamed, “did I kill him?” 

The look he gives Olle at those words nearly break the big man's heart and he knows a part of Lucifer, like a part of himself, will always be tormented and broken by the Mark and by all the things he had ever done that were unquestionably wrong. “You killed him, Luce,” he says sadly, “because, when he decided he loved you enough to kill you, you believed he had stopped loving you.” 

“Why aren't you in-love with him?”

The question takes Olle totally by surprise. He knows he will muddle his way through this answer but it has to be given. “The first time I ever told him I loved him, I was dying for the first time.” Lucifer is shocked by Olle's confession; the look on his face makes Olle smile. “I had no real human memory of anything before having a body. We had no idea what I was, no idea I'd come back. It was the last thing I thought I'd ever say to anyone; I was certain I would be destroyed, consumed, or sent into the void before I was allowed into Heaven or Hell. And I needed him to know he was good and strong and a leader who could keep fighting without me.” Olle laughs and rubs his face before sighing, “I guess,” he is struggling to explain something he and Gabriel understand so well it needs no explanation. “I guess, I love him too much to be in-love with him.” 

Lucifer snorts, “That is not an explanation.”

Olle laughs, “Simple answer: we can come together and apart a billion times and be happy in each others company. We don't have to fuck and we don't get pissy when one of us is fucking someone else. He is, and always will be, my oldest friend who knows me better than anyone, even better than I sometimes know myself.”

“That sounds like what people would call in-love, to me. But has he never told you he loves you?”

Olle is brought up short by that, the events of this morning still too fresh to admit out loud. “I've never said it so he'd say it back.” Olle chuckles a little, though how it comes out is a mystery to him, “You're getting far to perceptive of human emotions.”

Lucifer smiles a small, quiet smile that is at once shrewd and baffled, “I do enjoy reading. The children's books are much more helpful than I would have ever thought. Knowing even humans have to learn how to be human is an education in itself. These, though,” he holds up the journal, with his finger still holding his place, “are a unique perspective.”

“There is very little history in any of them,” Olle says. “I was just trying to put as much down as possible for reference by others. By the time the written word popped up again, I knew how important it was to teach and make sure others remembered. There are thousands of them, you're welcome to read them all, though it may take a while.” 

“The one about the Cage, though,” he says, “Gabriel wrote that with you. Do they all contain such specific magick? How many of them are that dangerous?”

“Hiding the twelve in Purgatory, while keeping them away from Leviathan and their mother, kept me busy; I only managed to save that book.” 

“Where was Cain? How did Gabriel manage to hide from the Host?”

“I took the twelve into Purgatory after Cain accepted the Mark from me and he descended into Hell. It was chaos there, fallen were fighting for space and power while Lilith was trying to regain control and Cain was forced to fight Abadon for control of his knights again. Gabriel hid away, without a vessel, moving through the fairy realms,” Olle laughs, “I think that's why he chose to become Loki after the Trickster god was murdered by Thor; he absorbed a good deal of magick while he was biding his time there. The oldest and strongest of the magickal creatures weren't consumed by the division and they helped him hide from the Host.”

“How did you get them out of Purgatory?” Lucifer asks.

As breathtaking as the archangel is in battle, Olle is coming to understand his love of learning, his insatiable need to know, is what makes Sam Winchester his true vessel. “We went from Purgatory into Hell and fought our way out. When rumors reached us in Purgatory that Hell had calmed, I sent them into Hell with Cain and, once they were safe, I left Purgatory the same way Dean did. I created the Devil's Gate Samuel Colt fought to contain and I used it to pull the twelve out of Hell. Unfortunately, to let them out, I was forced to let out Cain, his knights, and Azazel.”

“How many of them had vessels?” he asks.

“The twelve can't be killed, not by any means I've discovered; Amara could probably and, of course, God. Cain was constantly protected by the Mark, but, when they all arrived, the landscape was unfit for humanity. My trek from where I fell out of Purgatory to where I opened the Devil's Gate was made by dying in Maine and crawling out of the primordial sludge in Wyoming to live barely long enough to get the gate open. There were no humans, there was barely anything, and I honestly don't know how any of them survived because I couldn't, not for millenia.”

“You should get some sleep,” Lucifer says suddenly. Olle can tell he is thinking, probably over thinking, this ridiculously meandering conversation.

With a nod of his head, Olle goes back across the hall and strips down, disarming, to fall into his bed and sleep. His dreams are full of Purgatory instead of Holy Fire, but he still wakes up panting, freezing, and drenched in sweat as the sun comes in his windows. He stumbles into a hot shower still shaking, and stands under the water for a long time before he starts to bathe. 

Once he is fully dressed, armed, and as awake as he feels he can be, he goes downstairs to find a bagel and a red cup of sweet, creamy espresso laced dark roast with a neat scrawl across the front of the cup indicating, 'downstairs.' The basement is quiet despite the fact Olle knows there are two archangels down here practicing to kill. As he rounds the corner from the armory, he sees them side by side on the training mat going through a series of balance exercises. Straddling the bench, he finishes his bagel as they move from Yoga and Tai Chi to basic hand-to-hand, both of them are moving faster than they were yesterday and Gabriel, he sees, is having no trouble keeping up with his brother. They break apart when Lucifer manages to roll Gabriel onto his back after the smaller angel pinned his brother to the mat. 

Olle claps, laughing, as he empties his cup and says, “You're both fantastic!”

Gabriel grins as he makes his way over to the bench and, with a snap, Olle's cup is full again while the angel sips what smell like mocha. “We aim to please,” he says dropping down beside Olle while Lucifer comes up to stand beside them. “Luci, you want?” he gestures between their cups and his brother shakes his head calling forth his own sports bottle of water. Gabriel shrugs and turns back to Olle, “It's seven thirty, you should go, you've got a long drive ahead of you.”

“I know. I kinda wanted to check on the two of you, but I see,” he looks up at Lucifer, who just shrugs, “that's not necessary.”

“Nah,” he says with a dramatic wave of his hand, “we're good. But, if you want I'll snap you, and the truck, straight to where the latest body from that ghost has shown up.”

“Awesome,” Olle says downing more coffee. “Where'm I goin'?”

“Potosi, Missouri,” Gabriel says. “You ready?”

“Fill this up again,” Olle shakes his cup at the angel, “and I'm good to go.”

“Later hot stuff,” Gabriel laughs. “Don't get ganked on an easy salt and burn.”


	31. Chapter 31

Gabriel's snap, and the echo of his laughter, follows Olle as he finds himself, dressed in his gray suit, sitting in his truck outside what is, clearly, a crime scene. It takes him a few seconds to collect himself. His coffee is safe in one of the cup holders on the console, he does a standard inventory of all his weapons and lock picks to determine everything is where it should be, then checks his inside jacket pocket to find his Oliver Davis FBI badge and his wallet with Oliver Davis credit cards and driver's license. On the top of the console is a stack of official looking folders Olle grabs before he turns off the engine and steps out of the truck. 

Flipping through the folders as he walks across the street, he sees it is an official file and FBI paperwork to give him liaison privileges over the case. Pulling his badge for the officer at the edge of the crime tape, he waits for the Detective in Charge while re-reading the facts of the first three murders. 

“Can I help you Agent?” a gruff voice says pulling Olle from his file. The detective is nearing fifty with thinning salt and pepper hair, about six feet tall, average build, and dark green eyes; he is wearing a navy suit and red tie, shoes covered in blue booties, and he pulls off his gloves to extend a hand as he nears the crime tape. When he comes up to Olle, the detective is take aback by the man's size and build, but he covers quickly, and extends his hand again. “Detective Dallas,” he says when Olle takes his hand.

“Davis,” he says taking the man's hand. “This is number four, in the past month, with the same M. O. am I right?” Dallas shakes his head and Olle goes on, “This is another one?”

Dallas nods and leads Olle to the back of a C.S.I. Van to get booties and gloves while he talks, “Four men, all between thirty-five and forty, dark blond hair, blue eyes, six feet tall, medium build. Come on,” he leads the hunter inside the apartment and up a set of steps into the bedroom. “We were expecting those Criminal Minds guys, is that you?” Dallas asks stopping to let Olle precede him into the bedroom.

Olle chuckles but the coppery scent of blood hit him half way up the steps and he can see arterial spray across the room even as a photographer and two medical examiners shield the body from view. “Not a part of the BAU, no, but I have some experience with extrapolating on the mind of a madman,” Olle says as he comes to a stop behind the medical examiner. 

The detective seems hesitant to come back into the room, Olle can't blame him, it looks like a scene straight out of Dexter. “Guy's name was James Maston, he was a manager at the Hardee's, lived here all his life; I think my brother went to high school with him.” Dallas goes on, reading from a flip notebook he pulled out of his shirt pocket, “Parents both work at the elementary school, no girlfriend, no signs of robbery, no known enemies. I mean,” he shakes his head, “guy was clean as a whistle. They've all been.”

“How long has he been dead?” Olle asks the medical examiner.

“Liver temp indicates he died about midnight last night,” the woman says. “I'll have COD by this afternoon but I'd speculate exsanguination, though from the way his throat was cut,” she pulls back and Olle can see it was done by a lefty, ear to ear, with a serrated blade, “he could have suffocated. The first victim suffocated before he bleed out but these last three all look cut and dry,” she chuckles at her own joke, it is in bad taste but dealing with death everyday means you learn to put a spin on things.

Olle looks around again but decides he will wait for the report so he can see the pictures before everyone stomped all over everything. Detective Dallas follows him as he heads back down the steps asking, “Who found the body?”

“He didn't show up for work this morning so, at five, two of his employees came over. They said the door was unlocked, there was no sign of forced entry or robbery or even a struggle. They both said they saw him from the top of the steps and never set foot in the room.” Dallas leads Olle into the kitchen where the two women sit at the table, one in her late forties, the other in her early twenties, both red-faced and upset. “Meredith Shell,” the older woman nodded at Olle, “and Julia Bertin,” the young girl bobs her head and Olle has a moment of cognitive dissonance at the name but manages to recover unobserved. 

“Agent Oliver Davis, FBI,” Olle says showing them his badge and sitting, “but you can call me Olle.” His smile could light up a room and both women relax a little. “Can we get either of you anything? You've been here a long time, coffee or water?” Both women look hesitant to ask, but Dallas takes the hint and grabs the officer who was waiting with them and pulls him out of the room telling him to go grab the four of them a coffee. While Olle is alone with them, he says, “I know finding your friend like that must have been hard, but I just need to ask a couple questions. When you got here, did you notice any strange smells or sounds? Did you see anything you thought, maybe, could have been a trick of the light or your mind reacting to the shock?”

Meredith says, “The door was open, and I called out for Jimmy. The house was so cold,” at this point Julia nods agreement, “and it smelled like wet stone. When he wasn't downstairs, I started up the steps and, when I saw him,” she is shaking and Olle reaches out to take both of her hands in his one huge paw, she starts crying again. She composes herself, gives Olle's hand a tight squeeze, and continues, “When I got to the top of the steps, I saw all the blood and I screamed. That's when Julia came up the steps.”

“I went over to the door and saw him laid out on the carpet, blood everywhere,” Julia says quietly. “He was obviously dead and I didn't want to touch anything so I just took Meredith outside and called the police.”

“Thank you ladies,” Olle says as Dallas comes back in with coffee. He downs his in two large gulps and says to the detective, “How similar are the crime scenes and can I see the other three?”

“I've got reports, evidence, photos; everything back at the station and I'll get an officer to go with you,” Dallas says following him outside where they strip off their booties and Olle pulls his gloves out of his pocket and tosses them as well. “What are you driving?”

Olle smiles, “I've got my personal vehicle. I'm supposed to be in Memphis, my brother's getting' married next week. I caught this on my way outta the office last night.” 

“We'll get you a room for a couple nights and I'll get you a ride with the kid who's gonna show you around.” They make their way out to the young officer Olle first flashed his badge to, “Sims,” Dallas barks and the kid jerks around, “this is Agent Davis. I want you to get him settled at the Super 8 then drive him back to the station and anywhere else he wants to go while he's here.” Sims just nods and Dallas claps Olle on the back before walking off to talk to someone else.

The kid is short, like Gabriel, with black hair and hazel eyes, but he is in good shape from the looks of him; good posture, attentive stance, observant. Olle likes him immediately. “Mike Sims,” the man says holding out his hand. 

“Olle Davis,” he says after a firm shake. “Let me follow you, since I don't know where I'm going.”


	32. Chapter 32

By four o'clock, Olle has exhausted Mike, but he has gone over every scrap of evidence and every report with a fine tooth comb, as well as seen all three previous crime scenes. Mike drops him off at the hospital, uncomfortable with the idea of an autopsy, he chooses to loiter around the gift shop. Once Olle checks the body out for himself, and listens to the preliminary report, he is shocked to find the other bodies are still there and he looks them over as well. They make it back to the station in time to help Detective Dallas catalog all the evidence from the last murder. 

Sucking chicken lo mein out of a take-out box while he leans on Dallas' desk, Olle looks at the murder board and wonders if Gabriel was wrong about a ghost; maybe it is just a serial killer. The murders all took place on different days, in different places, and, physical appearance aside, there was no connection between victims; he has to be missing something though. Turning to the detective, who is using a fork to eat General Tao’s Chicken, Olle asks, “When was the last time you had a murder here? Or any kind of truly violent crime?”

“We haven't had a reported rape since 2010 or a murder since 2006. We've got your average number of assaults and robberies for a town this size, but four murders in two months,” he sets his fork down and shakes his head, “I can't figure out what's going on.”

Olle knows he isn't going to find anything else sitting here, so he calls to officer Sims, who was not eating, “Kid, what time do you get off?”

“Seven, Sir,” he says standing.

Olle looks at his watch, a quarter til, then gathers his stuff, including his leftovers, and says, “Give me a ride back to the motel on your way out?” Sims nods and heads through the station to get his stuff while Olle shakes hands with Dallas, “I'll talk to you tomorrow Detective. Thank you.”

Back at the Super 8, Olle finishes his dinner, showers, and spreads all his information out on the king-sized bed, then pulls up the information Gabriel found when he offered Olle the case. If it is a ghost, and that is still a big if in Olle's book, none of the information from Gabriel or the police help him at all. By midnight Olle's eyes are starting to cross, but he has managed to tape everything to the wall beside the bed and he decides to get some sleep. 

At seven thirty the next morning Officer Sims knocks on Olle's door while he is sitting on the bed staring at his wall of information. Dressed and ready to go, Olle grabs his phone and opens the door, “There's been another one,” Sims says. 

“Where? When?” Olle asks seriously following the officer to his patrol car.

“I got the call as I was pulling into the parking lot just now,” Sims says buckling his seat belt. 

After another day, much the same as yesterday, Olle finally has a connection between all the victims. All five men were members of different groups who recently went on cave diving trips. After another two days of digging, Olle determined those five were the only blond, blue eyed men who had been diving in the last six months. Since he didn't fit that particular description, he sat down at the desk in his room that night and prayed, “Gabe, Luce, can I get a quick drop by?” Within seconds, both archangels were standing in front of him at the foot of his bed. 

“You rang,” Gabriel said jumping sideways and landing with a bounce and a grin in the middle of the bed.

“I need blond haired, blue eyed bait,” the man says looking at Lucifer. 

The angel sits on the end of the bed and says, “What would I need to do?”

“I've got five dead men who all went, at different times and with different people, cave diving. I don't think it's a ghost. It's a water spirit or a pissed off fairy maybe, but not a ghost,” Olle says. 

“And you don't want to risk a human life when, whatever it is, it shouldn't be able to hurt me,” Lucifer says calmly.

Olle nods and that is when Gabriel speaks, “Is this a good idea? Do you feel up to doing this Luci?”

Lucifer shrugs, “The loss of life should be motivation enough.”

“That's not what he asked,” Olle says.

Lucifer laid back on the bed and spoke to the ceiling, “I suppose we'll never know until I try. I feel,” he sighed, “which I guess, after such a long time, is the problem. But I feel ready to get my head out of books and, for once, do something I should have been doing all along.”

“If you are willing to try,” Olle says, “That is all I can ask, of anyone. If you have any problems, or you just change your mind, you can take a step back, or stop, or leave; whatever you need to do.”

“What do you need me to do?” Lucifer asks sitting up to level ice blue eyes on the hunter.

Olle thinks those eyes are warming up, no longer frighteningly cold, and he smiles, “There's a dive day after tomorrow. I thought we'd spend tomorrow getting you used to people a little bit; sign up for the dive, eat some food, go for a hike, get you acclimated so to speak. Then we take the dive, following the same route all five victims took, and see what we come up with. You can swim, right?”

“It shouldn't be a problem,” the angel says. 

“Awesome,” Olle responds getting up and heading for the bathroom, but there is a knock on the door.

Officer Sims' voice comes through the door, “Agent Davis?”

Olle gestures at the angels who both nod and he goes to open the door, “Mike? What's up?”

The man stays in the doorway, holding out a folder, “Detective Dallas wanted me to drop this off; it's the information about the Bonne Terre Mine you asked for.”

“So Maggie came through, terrific!” Olle took the folder and opened it. He spent the better part of three hours earlier today talking to Maggie Callahan at the Historical Society about the Mine; she promised she would send him all the information she could. “I'd invite you in Mike but I don't think I have so much as a bottle of water to offer you, besides, isn't your daughter's soccer game tonight?”

The man grins, “Yeah, I'm headed over there now. Thanks Olle. I'll pick you up in the morning?”

“Actually, I was going to go have a look at the Mine, I spoke to them earlier and there is a dive day after tomorrow; I thought I'd take it.” Olle says.

“You live in St. Louis and you've never been on a dive at the Mine?” Sims asks curious.

Olle laughs, “I'm from North Carolina originally and, after I got out of the Marines and joined the Bureau, I haven't had much time for recreational activities. I'm a certified diver and I've been cave diving before in Europe, France and Spain; with my brothers.”

“Oh, that's right,” Sims says sadly, “you're missing your brother's wedding for this aren't you?”

Olle laughs it off, “Wedding's not til next Saturday, I'm currently missing two weeks of my mother wanting to know when I'm going to bring a nice boy home, why I don't have a date, and my sister trying to set me up with any and all gay men she knows because she forgets that just because we're both gay doesn't mean it's automatically a match made in Heaven.”

Sims laughs, “Well, if that's the alternative, cave diving sounds a lot better! Good night Olle.”

Once Sims is gone, Gabriel can no longer reign in his laughter. “You're missing your brother's wedding?” he asks between guffaws. Lucifer looks at his brother and chuckles at his mirth if not the situation.

Olle goes around the bed to sit behind Lucifer so they can all look at the information Sims brought him. “I had to give them a reason I showed up in my own vehicle without all necessary official documents. I told them I got handed this on my way out of town.”

“Do you just do that all the time?” Lucifer asks. “Come out, I mean. To anyone, like it's not a big deal? Isn't it dangerous?”

“It can be, some places, but I'm rather physically imposing,” Olle says with a grin. His next words, though, are seriously spoken, “I had a few problems when I was in the Marines and stationed in Afghanistan, but Finland has been a open serve country since the year I joined. Missouri is still lagging behind, but the country as a whole has moved forward in leaps and bounds the last four years. Marriage is legal in all 50 states, federal laws are moving forward to combat bullying, ensure fair housing and employment, and Trans rights. I know, finally, who I am and I'm not denying that for any reason ever, ever again. Why?”

Lucifer shrugs, “The last time I was here; I didn't know how quickly things changed.”

“Our last three elections have put a Democrat in the White House and that's helped, a lot. I'm looking forward to Elizabeth Warren running. You kick-starting the end of the world made a lot of things touch and go for a while, then the Leviathans, Metatron, and now Amara; it's still really bad some places, for all kinds of people. Women and children, especially children, suffer the most, but we're trying.” Olle hopes he's not pushing.

“I think I need to start finding out more about the world than I'm learning in children's books,” he says picking up the folder Olle laid on the bed.

“That'd be a really good idea, Luce,” Olle says clapping him on the back with a smile. He and Gabriel share a hopeful look before they all start to talk about the Bonne Terre Mine, its history, and how it is now the biggest attraction in this part of Missouri. By one-thirty, Olle has given up on learning anything else. There have been a few diving accidents over the years, but nothing that should have caused this type of murder, and any mining deaths were centuries ago and, while they are sure there must have been some, there is no history of previous attacks and still no reason for the victims to have their throats cut. 

“Okay,” Olle says standing up and starting to strip, “I'm down for the count.” Lucifer moves from the bed to the couch but Gabriel only snaps so he is stripped down as well, under the covers, and the lights are off. Olle laughs falling into bed beside the angel and pulling him into his chest. “Luce, you need light?” he asks while making himself comfortable.

“Can I turn the television on?” he asks stretching out on the couch.

“Sure,” Olle says with a yawn. 

Gabriel rolls over then, rubbing his face in Olle's chest before he makes eye contact. “Do you think he's ready for this?” he asks solemnly.

“The only way any of us will find out, Gabe, is by letting him try,” Olle says before he gives the angel an affectionate squeeze and closes his eyes. Gabriel lays there all night comfortable, but worried.


	33. Chapter 33

When Olle woke up, very late, he realizes, glancing at the clock, it was with Gabriel curled into his side, asleep, and Lucifer watching The Hobbit: The Battle of Five Armies. Olle stretches, Gabriel shifting deeper into his side, and he asks, quietly, “Are you watching all three of them?”

Lucifer looks over at Olle and says, “I am. They are very nearly as well done as the books and the visual effects are amazing!” The Devil laughs, “What humanity can do without Grace or magick is a testament to Father's ingenuity.” 

Olle chuckles, rubbing his hand over Gabriel's back while the angel sleeps, and watches while Thorin, Fili, and Kili succumb to the Orcs and Bilbo returns to The Shire. As the credits start to role, Olle nudges Gabriel awake saying, “Hey Gabe, you wanna get up?” The angel starts to move and Olle takes the opportunity to stretch fully and slide to the edge of the bed, “I'm gonna shower, or do you want first dibs?”

The yawning stretch the angel gives as he rolls over on his back and scratches his happy trail as it dips into his boxer-briefs is thoroughly hedonistic. The light in his eyes, mischievous, like he knows how alluring he is in that moment and Olle can't help but laugh as he grabs the angel's wrist and tugs him over for a brief, but deep, kiss. “Loki, Loki, Loki; glad to have you back,” he says against Gabriel's lips and the angel laughs at the grin on Olle's face.

“I'll wait for you,” Gabriel says. 

As Olle heads into the bathroom the mirror reflects the angel sailing a pillow at his brother's head for a comment mumbled too low for any but angelic ears.

**

Lucifer had watched his brother lay with Olle all night; not moving, comfortable, until he finally drifted off to sleep during the middle of Desolation of Smaug. However, try as he might, he just couldn't understand sleeping. Food, even bathing, he got; they were pleasurable on a sensory level. Sleeping, however, was a bodily function to keep the brain and organs working; his Grace did all of that for him. 

When Olle laughed and kissed Gabriel, calling him Loki, Lucifer got a strange feeling in his stomach that seemed to spread through his whole body. He is pretty sure it is an emotion but one he is having trouble identifying. “I think it's embarrassment.” When Gabriel's pillow sails into his head, he realizes he must have mumbled what he was thinking out loud. 

“Why are you embarrassed Luci?” Gabriel asks from his comfortable sprawl on the bed; he hadn't even moved to throw the pillow, just grabbed it and sent it flying.

Lucifer thinks for a moment, tucking the pillow behind his head, before he answers, “It is obvious he loves you. I can see it in the way he looks at you and touches you and treats you; like you matter, your opinion matters, with everything he does. He has been there with you during every horrible thing; he was helping you, pushing you, and I,” the angel falters here, not sure what to say. “I am,” he takes a deep breath, “I guess I'm ashamed of myself. I feel like I'm intruding on whatever this is the two of you have built. I feel like I should be the one who was there for you, instead of the one who was causing you so much torment. I'm jealous,” he says it like he just realized that was what he was feeling; he is stunned. He shakes his head, “I am. And I'm embarrassed seeing how close the two of you are, watching him kiss you and laugh and love you so hard I can feel it rolling off of him, even all the way over here. Your happiness is something I feel I haven't earned the right to take part in, and yet, witnessing it at the hands of someone else hurts me.” 

He tried to explain as best as he was able and felt like he worked most of it out as the words were coming out of his mouth. He sits there looking across the room, the only light from the break in the curtain behind him and seeping under the bathroom door across the room, but he cannot see Gabriel's face. His brother hasn't moved since he tossed the pillow at him; if he needed to breath he thinks he would be holding his breath waiting for a response.

“When you killed me,” Gabriel says quietly, “I still loved you. When I saw you out of your mind and terrified, hiding under that rubble of a door, in Hell, I was so happy. I was so relieved. I knew I had my brother back. I wanted, I want, you to share my whole life with me again, like we did in the beginning. He will never be you Lucifer; he will never be my big brother.” Gabriel turns, just his head, then and their eyes lock; he is crying. “You raised me. You taught me to be a warrior and a leader and a Trickster,” he laughs then and reaches up to wipe his face with one hand. “You taught me how to be a brother. You taught me the importance of love and family and, when I decided to confront you in that motel, it was seeing how much Sam and Dean reminded me of you, of us, that made me see how important Humanity is and how important it was to save you,” he huffs an only slightly bitter laugh, “even if that meant killing you.”

None of that was what Lucifer was expecting, but he is so glad to hear Gabriel say it all anyway. He wants to say something, but he has no idea what. He wants to tell him how much he understands, now, why Gabriel did all the things he did to protect him, even from himself. He wants to tell him how much he loves him. He wants to remind him that, no matter how much Gabriel believes Lucifer taught him to love, it was Gabriel who taught him how to love, how to be a brother. He respected Michael, until Michael betrayed them all, and he, very literally, worshiped their Father, but he loved Gabriel. The only thing he can think to say is, “Volunteering, taking the Mark, I only did it so Father wouldn't ask you. I had to protect you, from her, from Michael. I only ever did any of it to watch out for you.”

Neither of them speak after that. When Olle comes out of the shower Gabriel goes in the bathroom and shuts the door. He strips off his underwear, turns on the hot water, and steps into the shower; he slides down the cold fiberglass wall to sit in the dirty tub and cry until the water turns ice cold before he gets up and reaches for the shampoo. 

When he comes out of the bathroom, Olle can tell something is wrong but Gabriel shakes his head when Olle looks like he is going to ask. Lucifer is sitting on the couch, still, reading about diving and misses the entire exchange. Olle pulls his sneakers on while Gabriel snaps himself into a pair of jeans, sneakers, and an AC/DC t-shirt. 

When Olle has armed himself with as much of his regular gear as he can while wearing only jeans and t-shirt, he looks over at the angels and says, “I need to eat and McDonald's does all day breakfast.” 

“Do you want to drive to the Mine or I can just snap us all there after you eat?” Gabriel asks. 

Olle looks at his watch, it is nearly noon, “I'll need the truck, but that's up to you.”

Gabriel nods his head and they all walk across the motel parking lot, through the parking lot at Taco Bell, to McDonald's, in silence. Olle gets two biscuits, a yogurt, and a coffee while Gabriel gets strawberry, hot fudge, and caramel sundaes then mixes them together and Lucifer, at his brother's instigation, eats a vanilla ice cream cone dipped in chocolate shell. When they get back to the motel parking lot, Olle double checks he has everything he needs out of the room before the three of them get in the truck and, with a snap, they are all sitting in the parking lot of the Bonne Terre Mine Dive Shop. 

“Okay,” Olle says, “I need gear and, if you're both going with me, you need gear and,” Olle gets out and goes around to the back passenger side to dig through the storage box built into the floorboard to hold up a clear plastic folder of paperwork, “these.”

“What's that?” Lucifer asks looking over at him from his seat behind the driver.

“It's my paperwork proving I'm a certified diver,” Olle says pulling it out. 

“You've done this before?” Gabriel asks. “You were terrified of water. It took me centuries to teach you how to swim.”

Olle is embarrassed, he tucks his head down, to the side, and chuckles, “I got over it eventually. I was in the Marines, I went to dive school. My battalion and I really did go diving in France.” Gabriel nods his head while Lucifer watches the two of them. “Besides,” Olle says defensive, “my chances of getting eaten by a shark this time around? Well, I guess they go up exponentially since you're here, but still.” Olle looks at Gabriel where he is leaned sideways in his seat, looking in the rear view mirror, and grins.

“That,” Gabriel says turning to lean across the console and point at Olle, “was an accident and you know it!”

Olle grins and laughs, “Do you know your Grace gets all static and puffs out around you like feathers on a wet bird when you're embarrassed and defensive?”

“I was going for Holy Wrath,” Gabriel says, “was I that far off?”

Lucifer laughs at that and says, “Oh yeah, little brother.”

Olle laughs then and slides into the backseat to lean up and kiss Gabriel's disgruntle frown before saying, “Come on. First order of business is to buy dive gear since mine is in a storage unit in Kansas City.”

Gabriel gets out and heads toward the dive shop. Lucifer looks at Olle, grinning, and asks, “A shark?”

Olle laughs as the two follow the little angel, “I don't know how it happened, but yeah. Hurt! Oh my God!” Olle and the angel laugh as they follow Gabriel through the door.


	34. Chapter 34

Olle buys gear for two since Gabriel decides he will go along unseen and, therefore, has no need for any special equipment. Then he checks them into the Inn and signs up for the dives, being sure to schedule the same dives the victims went on. Lucifer, he notes, is doing very well interacting with people. He ordered his own food at McDonald's, he spoke to the receptionist, the attendant at the dive shop, and the dive registrar with no problems; he even snapped his own diving certifications up without any help. Olle just wants to find a way to field test his reaction to confrontation and he hopes this will be his chance without it being too dangerous; if it all goes to Hell, he needs to be able to handle it on his own while Gabriel grabs his brother and leaves. 

Their first dive, later that afternoon, goes without incident with no indication there is anything supernatural going on. After, the three of them go to a local pub for dinner. Olle makes sure they sit at a table in the middle of the room, not at a booth, and he watches Lucifer closely; the angel is more withdrawn in the loud, busy restaurant, but he still manages to interact with the server and doesn't ask to leave when Olle and Gabriel decide to stay and drink, while listening to the live music. 

When they get back to the Inn, it becomes a waiting game. The estimated time of death for each victim makes Olle believe they were all killed at midnight, but each victim was killed the day after their last dive, so Olle goes to bed at midnight because they were scheduled for three dives tomorrow starting at eight. 

Those dives, as well, were uneventful. 

After their last dive, early that afternoon, Lucifer brought them back to the Super 8 in Potosi and they spent the rest of the day at the Washington County Park hiking, swimming, and Gabriel even snapped them up a picnic that evening. Lucifer knew they were trying to get him out, around people, and they knew he knew, but it all worked out well. The archangel enjoyed nature, and the people, mostly families, they interacted with showed him, in an idealistic way, both the good of humanity and the beauty of their interaction with nature. He was at ease, observant, and, to Olle's delight, enthralled; especially by the children he saw. 

When they sat down for their picnic, Gabriel turned around to find a little girl, about four. She had wondered over to their patch of grass from where her extended family were playing volleyball and her mother was busy breastfeeding her brother. “Hello,” the child said sitting down in the grass about six feet from the edge of the blanket Gabriel conjured with their basket of food. She was barefooted in denim shorts and a Disney Princess t-shirt with short blond hair pulled out of her green eyes with berets. “Why are you glowing?” she asked in the matter of fact way children have when the truth of something cannot be argued, merely accepted and explained.

Olle chuckled popping a few red grapes in his mouth while Lucifer watched, intrigued. Gabriel sat down facing the child and said, “How am I glowing?”

“He,” she pointed at Lucifer, “looks like the sun. But you look like you're on fire. My name's 'lizabet.” She tilts her head to the side in classic Castiel fashion and asks, “Are you angels? Gradma says angels are real and they watch over us.”

Olle sits up then and thinks a question at Gabriel, “Is the mother nephilim?” but the angel shakes his head looking over at the child's mother. As if she can feel him, she turns her head then gets up quickly and comes toward her daughter.

“Elizabeth,” her mother says jovially with a under current of worry, “what are you doing?” 

The child turns her head up to look at her mother, “I wanted to know why they are glowing,” she says as if that can explain everything.

Gabriel watches the woman but it is Lucifer who speaks, “She is a wonderfully observant little girl.” He is kind, soft spoken, and he makes easy eye contact with the mother. The mother nods and then he turns to the child with a conspiratorially secret grin and says, “You know what Elizabeth? You're right! His name is Gabriel,” he points at his brother. 

The child's eyes widen in recognition and surprise while her mouth opens in a long 'o' shape before her hands come up to her cheeks and she starts to smile. “I knew it!” she crows before she gets up and runs across their blanket to barrel into Lucifer and knock him on his back with a hug he is too shocked by to do anything but return. “Thank you for telling me,” she says when she pulls away and goes over to take her mother's hand and, waving, head back to her family. 

“That child,” Lucifer says, “will bear watching. As strong as she is now, when she grows up, she'll be a beacon.”

“She's a seer?” Gabriel asks turning to his brother. 

Lucifer nods, “I can spot them because it's a trait easily manipulated and one I, sadly, used more than once to corrupt.”

“Lilith was a seer,” Olle says around another handful of grapes and a bite of cheese. 

Lucifer nods again, “Her mother was a Fairy, she had strong magick in her blood. Worming my way in was easier than I thought it should have been.”

“You underestimated what a mother will believe and do if it means protecting her child,” Olle says simply.

“I did at that, I did at that,” he says sadly and Olle worries, after this exchange, all their progress has been lost because the angel retreats into himself for the rest of the night.

Back at the motel, Olle gets another room since all the attacks have occurred when the victims were alone. Lucifer takes up residence in the new room with Gabriel playing invisible bodyguard and Olle laying, dressed and fully armed, on his bed, ready for Gabriel to snap him into his brother's room if anything happens. The night goes by slowly, and, when everyone is still as safe as houses at four in the morning, Gabriel pops into Olles room and tells him to get some sleep. 

Monday morning sees a much more withdrawn Lucifer and, while he is still speaking to people, it is with much less eye contact, a softer voice, and more uncertainty. Their breakfast at the Huddle House is a quiet affair, Lucifer doesn't talk, Gabriel tries to be his jovial self but feels like his brother's backslide is his fault, and Olle is wondering if he has missed something and this whole diving exercise was a waste of time and, a lot, of money. 

The rest of the day is spent divided between the Washington County Public Library and the Washington County Historical Society doing more research; trying to find any other connection between the victims and any possible links to a haunting or a creature. Olle stops for lunch and drops by the Sheriff’s Office to speak to Detective Dallas, but, with no new homicides and no new leads, they are at as much of a dead end as Olle is. 

That night, Olle is more than disappointed when Lucifer is not visited by a spirit, fairy, or creature with homicidal intentions. As he is drifting off to sleep, at nearly three in the morning, his cell phone rings and Detective Dallas informs him there is another victim. When Olle gets to the crime scene, with two invisible archangels taking stock of everything, his victim profile is turned on its head; the latest victim is a man in his mid-forties with dark hair and brown eyes who was killed in his bathroom after getting up in the middle of the night. The man's wife was woken by the sound of his body hitting the floor and says there was no one in the house when she found him. At this point, however, Olle is convinced it is a spirit when even the angels can't find a trace of fairy magick, sulfur, or hexbags. The connection to the mine, thankfully, is intact as the newest victim was a part of the first victim's group.

“Could it be a rogue angel?” Olle asks disarming slowly at the table in their motel room.

“The blade is all wrong and why wouldn't they smite whoever pissed them off for whatever reason?” Gabriel asks flopping down beside his brother on the couch.

Olle nods agreement about the blade but, as he strips to get in bed, says, “The smiting, even the blade really, are signatures. It would call to hunters, demons, and other angels.” Olle sighs getting in the bed and getting comfortable. “I hate that people are dying,” he says into his pillow, “but I'm moving on if I don't find anything by the end of this week. There are other cases and Chuck's life I still need to rip apart.”

Lucifer hasn't spoke in hours and has been helpful but withdrawn since the child in the park so, when he speaks, it takes the other two by surprise, “Have you thought of summoning the five victims and asking them what killed them?”

Olle lifts himself up off his pillow and turns his head to look at the angel, “I hadn't, but it is a good plan.” Olle jumps out of bed, pulls on his jeans, and goes out to dig in the truck for all necessary supplies. 

Gabriel has followed him outside to ask, “Can you even do that? If their souls are in Heaven, and not still in the ether, can you find them without being found out by the angels?”

Olle hands Gabriel a box of candles and herbs while he goes to open the toolbox and says, “I've never had any trouble before. None of the bodies have been released yet, if I do it at the morgue I'll have a direct link to the victims and it will be easier.”

“And if they turn out to be pissed off they were murdered by whatever? You'll have five angry spirits trapped in a room with you.” Gabriel sounds worried but he takes the box of pencils and chalk and the very old book Olle hands him.

“It's the fastest way, the easiest way, and I can stop whatever is going on; no one else will die,” he says seriously, jumping down from the bed of the truck and going back inside to get dressed.

“Okay, Luce,” Olle says sitting down on the bed to put his shoes back on, “what do you think I should do?”

“Summon them individually and ask them how they died,” he says leaning forward on the couch, showing more interest than he had the past two days. “Make sure their stories match, or see where they differ. Then summon them collectively and see if they recognize whatever their seemingly nonexistent connection is.”

Olle nods as he rearms himself then grabs the bag of rock salt on the desk and turns to Gabriel, “Can you wammy me Gabe?” 

With a snap the three of them are in the morgue.


	35. Chapter 35

They pull a stainless steel gurney over in front of the wall of refrigerated drawers and drop their arm full of supplies on it. Olle starts pulling things out and arranging them. Picking up the book he brought, he flips through until he finds a page covered by a large symbol; he hands Lucifer the book and a wax pencil, “Draw this on the front of their drawers.” The angel nods and goes over to start reading name plates. “Here Gabe,” he hands the angel a copper bowl, “water.” 

Gabriel gives him the bowl back, full from the tap on the autopsy table, and picks up the bag of rock salt to start on the doors and windows. 

Lucifer lays the book and pencil down and asks, “What next?” 

Olle looks up, five drawers perfectly marked, and smiles, “Perfect Luce.” Olle mixes a dozen different herbs and creates five small piles, about four inches apart, on the table. “Dig a little hole,” he demonstrates with his finger in the pile of herbs closest to him, “and fill it with water.” Lucifer nods and goes to work while Olle grabs the wax pencil and drops to the floor to start drawing on the tiles. 

When everything is set up, five small white candles are placed in front of each well of herbs. Olle uses the last of the wax pencil to write each victim's name on the table by a candle. “Now,” he says picking up a box of matches, “here we go.” 

One at a time Olle lights the candles, calling forth the spirit of the dead man whose name is written. One at a time the spirits tell the same story, then they recognize each other when they are all together, before they are released back into the ether. Olle is furious when the last spirit vanishes and he throws the now empty copper bowl against the wall of drawers, crushing it with the force of impact. “I ought to let her take them all,” he says angrily. 

“If you do,” Lucifer says, “other hunters will come and they won't wait around to ask her why she's doing it; they'll kill her.”

“If it is an Encantado,” Gabriel says, “she would have been there all along and she was bothering no one.”

“What set her off?” Lucifer asks.

“They raped her,” Olle says bitterly. “It's the only reason I've ever, ever, known of one to kill.”

“I thought that was what they did?” Lucifer asks.

“They are harmless water spirits; they look like dolphins usually. Their job is to protect the waters they live in from contamination and destruction. They play with people, they can become humanoid and they like to party. The mythos behind their being killers comes from men who have hurt them.” Olle is furious, still. “The species has no idea what sex is. They are completely asexual. The trauma of it, it drives them mad because they don't have anything to compare it to. It's just horrible, horrible violation and pain.” Olle starts to clean up, the other two begin to help, leaving no trace of them. 

Once they finish, Gabriel snaps them back to the motel. Olle slumps down on the bed and says, “I've never killed one; I've never had it in me not to let her punish the men who hurt her.”

“Can she be reasoned with?” Gabriel asks siting down beside him and putting his hand on the man's knee.

“All I can do is try,” Olle says sadly. “I've never known of one to stop killing, though, until she kills the ones who raped her. After that, she usually kills herself.”

“You could find him,” Lucifer says, “feed him to her. It's a terrible choice to make, but anyone else she would have killed in his place gets to live.”

“Either way she is going to die,” Gabriel says. “But,” the tone of voice changes and he gets a look on his face that is pure Trickster, “if we know who did it, we know who is responsible for the death of those six men.”

Olle looks over at the angel and falls backward on the bed laughing. After a minute he collects himself and, sitting up on his elbows, says, “You want to frame her rapist for murder?” Gabriel nods and Olle chuckles, “Alright then.”

Olle goes out to the truck then and comes back with an obsidian dagger, about ten inches long with a six inch blade and the handle wrapped in doe skin; he also has a small bag and a blue candle. “I can summon her,” he says laying everything on the desk to pour the bag's contents into his hand. Pulling the matchbox out of his pocket he places a pearl inside then pours the gems in his hand back into the bag and, picking up the candle, says, “I should do this at the mine.” 

Gabriel nods, Olle puts the dagger in his boot, and, when he stands up, they are all on the stone outcropping used as a dock, deep in the mine.

“We'll wait outside,” Lucifer says taking his brother's arm and leading him up, out of the mine. Gabriel would have stayed but Lucifer knows, not only is this difficult for Olle, but reasoning with a damaged, dangerous creature will be easier without an audience.

Almost an hour later, Olle walks out of the mine carrying the body of what appears to be a young woman, all curves and dark hair; the dagger is still buried in her chest to the hilt. “Her name,” he says steadily, though he is shaking; in shock or fury, not even he knows, “was Cordelia. I want the bastard who did this to her; who made me do this to her.”

Lucifer pulls a sheet out of thin air and lays it on the ground then helps Olle wrap her body while Gabriel disappears. When the body is wrapped, Lucifer brings them all to Gabriel with a thought and Olle sees the angel has built a pyre. “Where are we?” he asks laying her out carefully.

“So deep in the rainforest not even the natives will find us,” Gabriel says pushing the pyre out onto the river and setting it aflame with a snap. He hands Olle and his brother four fingers of good whiskey in a crystal glass and tips his own to his lips as they all stand in silence and watch her burn. 

After several hours, the pyre collapses into the water and Olle hears Lucifer ask, “Could she tell you who it was?”

“She said there were seven of them. One called the other Mickey. From what I found in the computer, before I left the mine, all the victims were together on a dive about a year ago. As they returned to dive again, she followed them home and picked them off.” Olle tilts his glass at Gabriel and it is full again as they appear back in their motel. 

“I'll take care of this,” Gabriel says to Olle. “You should take a shower and try to sleep.” Olle nods emptying his glass, which then disappears, and starting to strip as he heads into the bathroom. Gabriel turns to his brother and says, “Keep an eye on him.”

As Gabriel lifts his hand to snap, Lucifer says, “Please be careful.” His brother grins and then he is gone.

When Olle gets out of the shower, he falls face first into the bed and Lucifer turns all the lights off before sitting on the couch and snapping up his Kindle to read. Four hours later, Gabriel appears on the couch beside his brother and says, “Not only was he guilty, but it wasn't the first time Mickey'd raped someone. He'll get caught soon enough and even believe he's guilty.”

“Is that justice?” Lucifer asks laying his Kindle in his lap.

“I don't know anymore, Luci. I stopped asking myself if my tricks were just a long time ago.” Gabriel leans his head on his brother's shoulder and sighs, “Consent is everything. Even we have to have permission.”

“If the Devil needs consent,” he says somber, “then I suppose everyone does.”

Gabriel laughs and nudges his brother's shoulder sitting back up to look over at Olle. “Has he said anything?”

“You're worried about him?”

Gabriel shrugs and nods, “We don't know if Amara can hurt him or what it will do to Creation if she can and does. He will fight to the last man, until the world burns around him, and he'll destroy himself over and over to make sure the rest of us live. Why do you think Beth clings so tightly to her disinterest, to Baz and his 'just a good fuck' attitude, to all Kevin is teaching her? Killing things that don't need killing, mercy killing, suicide by hunter; call it what you want, he hates it.” Gabriel takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, “When he got back from Hell, he couldn't even call out to me. I felt him, I never even realized he was missing until he showed back up again. When I found him,” Gabriel is quiet, voice hoarse with emotion, “he was curled in a ball on the ground not moving, eyes wide open. I couldn't reach him.” Angelic eyesight means even in the dark Lucifer knows his brother is crying. “Searching through his mind for any spark of sanity was...” He trails off, wipes his face, and continues, “He never expressly asked me to kill him; it was the only thing I could think to do for him.”

“And you're worried about his sanity?” Lucifer asks.

There is a chuckle hidden in a sniffle as Gabriel wipes his face with his hand before saying, “Never. I just worry about him. What happens to him if, probably when, Amara kills one of us; all of us? I don't see how any of us are going to live through this and he really never gets to die; unless we let her win. He feels so alone all the time and I hate the idea of him pulling away from humanity, from everything, because it hurts too much just knowing he is eventually going to be alone anyway.”

Lucifer pulls his brother into an awkward sideways hug and says, “I'm going back to the house. You should stay. Wake him up and talk to him. Remind him you're still here.” Before Gabriel can respond, Lucifer is gone.


	36. Chapter 36

“Huh,” Gabriel says to the empty space his brother just occupied. He is more than a little shocked his brother just, basically, hinted for him to stay and screw his brains out. 

Gabriel strips off his clothes and makes for the shower, wondering when bathing became normal. Stretching his Trickster muscles tonight had felt good. He knew he was doing it, mainly, for Olle, but knowing that man was going to pay for what he had done, the damage he caused, made him feel good. He was the Angel of Justice, after all, he reminds himself as he washes his hair. 

Clean and dry, Gabriel comes back out into the motel room and notices, even in the dark, Olle is no longer in the bed. Gabriel looks around the room and quickly finds him huddled in the corner between the king-sized bed and the bathroom wall. The big man's breathing is rapid and shallow, he is sweating, and his eyes are open but he is focused on something only he can see. Slower than should probably be possible, Gabriel approaches Olle, squatting down to look the big man in the face. 

“Olle, can you hear me?” Gabriel asks reaching out, “I'm going to touch your arm, is that okay?” Olle still doesn't come back to himself, not even when Gabriel touches him, so the angel keeps talking, “Can you tell me what you're seeing? Where are you? What's going on?” His voice is soft, low, and steady; he is trying to stay calm but this reminds him so much of when Olle came back from Hell and he didn't know what to do then either. 

Inspiration strikes, though, when he remembers Beth and, with a thought, his phone is in his hand, ringing. When she picks up it sounds like she was asleep but Gabriel gives her no time before he starts talking, “What would be the best thing I could do to knock you out of a night terror that is probably about Hell? He can't hear me, his eyes are glazed over, and touch isn't helping.”

It takes what feels to Gabriel like an eternity for her to respond, but, finally, she says, “He's probably sweat the bed through. Get him into a warm shower, if you can, and touch him as much as possible. You can talk to him, it doesn't have to be about anything, he probably won't hear you, but it will keep him calm. Get him back in the bed then and just keep talking to him. He'll eventually go back to sleep; probably won't even remember it in the morning.”

“That's all I can do?” Gabriel asks.

“What happened?” Beth wants to know around a yawn.

“He had to kill an Encantado,” Gabriel says sadly. 

“We've never done that,” she say seriously. 

Gabriel shakes his head, even though she won't see it, “He said as much.”

Olle's earlier anger is reflected in her voice now, “Rapist bastard! Did she get him?”

“There were a lot of them, she killed all but one,” he says while he snaps clean sheets on the bed. As he guides Olle up off the floor and toward the bathroom he keeps talking, “I tricked the last one. He's going away for the murders, I made pretty sure.”

“Good,” she says. “If you need anything else, call me.”

“Beth,” he says right as she is about to hang up.

“Huh?” she asks yawning again.

“I never told you I was sorry,” he says sadly looking at Olle the whole time. “About Azazel. About Alistair. About Kali. About what he did to you, about the fact that I never thought to look for you. About how little I did for you once you were back.” He is stripping Olle's underwear off and turning on the shower, which a quick snap has made into heated tile shower big enough for both of them, “I'll never be able to make it up to you, but I am sorry.”

“Keep talking to him, just like that Gabe,” she says with a lump in her throat. “He'll be fine. And,” she says trying and failing to hide the sound of her tears, “you don't ever have to apologize for circumstances we brought on ourself. I love you Gabe, and I'm sorry if I've ever let you think you had something to be sorry for.”

“I love you,” he says to her, looking intensely at Olle, and meaning it more than he did the last time he said it. They hang up the phone without another word and he guides Olle into the shower. 

Gabriel is slow and gentle as he bathes Olle, washing his hair, and using his hands to lather and massage the man's skin; keeping up a running commentary the whole time. Olle's breathing slows and deepens to a more normal pace and, while his eyes are still unfocused, he seems to begin to respond to Gabriel's touch; being more easily lead. At first Gabriel has no idea what to say but he begins talking about shared memories that distinctly do not involve war, death, or hunting. Surprisingly, he realizes they have a lot of those types of memories. By the time Gabriel leads the big man, clean and dry, back to bed, he is telling him about all the things he learned from the fairies while he was with them. 

While he doesn't come back to himself, Olle does wrap his arms around Gabriel as the angel tucks himself close up into the man's side. Draping himself half on top of Olle, Gabriel listens to the heartbeat under his ear, feels his chest rise and fall, and rubs his hand along the Yggdrasil shaped tattoo of protective sigils while he starts to speak again in a low, clear voice, “Dear God,” he starts, shocked by it himself, but he takes a deep breath and continues, “I don't know if you're listening. I keep hoping,” he huffs here, but goes on, “hoping that you're listening. There is so much suffering and pain here Dad, but there is so, so much wonder and beauty and discovery and love too. For some it just seems like life is always hard, and I feel like, while he had it better than many, he would probably say better than most, Olle's existence has been so bogged down by the pain and suffering; he rarely experiences the wonder and the beauty and the love.” Gabriel sighs, “I just wish there was something I could do to ease his torment. Can you show me what I have to do to help him? Can you help him?” Gabriel looks up at Olle and realizes, at some point in the last minute he has finally fallen back to sleep. “Thank you,” the angel calls out to his father before settling in against the big man and drifting off to sleep himself. 

**

When Olle wakes up the next morning, he quickly realizes he is naked and he distinctly remembers putting on underwear before coming out of the bathroom last night. He also realizes there is a 'the littlest archangel' sized lump draped, mostly, on top of him; their legs tangled together, Gabriel's arms wrapped around him, and the angel's head buried in the hair on his stomach. Olle wonders what happened and where Lucifer is, but when he tries to move realization strikes in the form of a powerful, painful ringing in his head and ache to his muscles. He must have had a flashback/panic attack. 

When his head falls back on his pillow with an agonized, groaning hiss Gabriel stirs on his stomach and pulls himself up on his hands to look down at Olle. “Are you okay?” Gabriel asks worried.

Even with Olle's hand over his eyes the minimal light coming in around the curtains is agony and he groans, shaking his head, before he answers, “Everything hurts, but not as bad as it usually does when this happens, so I'll take it.”

“Would trying to heal you help?” Gabriel asks quietly as he starts to disentangle himself from the big man in case he is hurting him.

Olle stops him from pulling away and, settling the angel back where he was when they woke, he says, “It might, you can try.”

Gabriel doesn't move from his comfortable snuggle at Olle's side, he just reaches his left hand up to cup the man's face and let his Grace reach out and spread through Olle in a healing, calming way for almost a minute before he reigns himself back in. Olle sighs and brings his hand away from his eyes to look down at Gabriel and say, “Much better, Gabe, thank you.” He tangles his hand in the angel's hair and scratches his nails along the scalp before rubbing down his back to settle on the angel's waist. “What happened?” he finally asks quietly.

“Lucifer said he was going back to Kansas City, he told me to stay, said I could keep an eye on you. When I came out of the shower, you were huddled in the corner just...” he tries to snuggle closer to Olle, rubs the man's side, and turns his face into Olle stomach. “You were stone still, sweating, ragged breathing, your eyes were wide open and unfocused. I, I didn't know what to do; I tired to talk to you, tried touching you. I called Beth. She told me to keep talking to you, touching you as much as possible. I put you in the shower and got you back in bed; you fell asleep eventually.”

“I'm sorry you had to see that,” Olle says sadly. “It hasn't happened in a long time. I'll get better, it's just getting back into hunting, Cordelia; there is just an adjustment period.”

“If I had stayed, if I had waited for you, if I had looked for you,” Gabriel says quietly, voice full of guilt, “Azazel never would have taken you. I probably could have killed him,” Gabriel says. “Then so much of this never would have had to happen.” Gabriel craws up Olle's chest to straddle his waist, the big man's hands coming up to brace on his hips. Gabriel leans down, arms by his head, and kisses him deeply. Pulling back just enough to speak, he says fiercely, “I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry I left you,” before plundering his mouth again.

Olle takes everything the angel needs to give and revels in the attention as much as Gabriel does the chance to lavish that attention. They are so wholly focused on giving, one to the other, whatever is needed, that they lose all sense of anything outside themselves. Olle wants Gabriel to know that nothing that has ever happened to him or Lucifer or Michael has ever been the angel's fault or his burden. Gabriel, however, needs Olle to feel whole, sane, clean, unburdened, and, above all, human; worthy of love and caring and salvation. Neither would ever admit to it, but this the first time either man has made love and the feedback loop of Grace that cycles through them both as they cum together shakes the ground in Potosi and shatters every breakable in the Super 8, including the cars in the parking lot. 

When the two have finally caught their breath, Gabriel says, “I can fix this.”

Olle reaches up to take his hand where it lifted off the big man's chest and says, “Don't draw any more attention to us than we just did; please. They'll blame it on fracking or something.” Gabriel nods and they both drift off to sleep.


	37. Chapter 37

Several hours later, Olle's phone wakes them; it is Detective Dallas, they have a break in the case. Olle thanks the Detective for his time and wishes him well, telling him he is off to his brother's wedding since they no longer need the FBI's assistance. 

The case taken care of, they shower and, when Olle mentions food, Gabriel smirks and snaps. Olle finds himself standing outside Daniel in New York, wearing his favorite suit while Gabriel sports what Olle thinks is Ralph Lauren. They have dessert at Spot in the East Village before Gabriel snaps them back to Kansas City; Olle's truck, windows and mirrors intact, is parked in the garage, its contents complete. 

After a brief check on Lucifer, who is on the third floor watching the extended edition Lord of the Rings Trilogy, they find themselves tangled up in Olle's king-sized bed. Neither really wants to talk about everything that happened today, but the reality of it is starting become oppressive. The significance of their love making and the very obvious date they just had needs to be discussed. 

“I'm in-love with you,” Olle says quietly from his position between Gabriel's legs, head on his chest, one arm wrapped around the angel the other folded so his hand rests on Gabriel's heart. 

“I'm in-love with you,” Gabriel says sadly, scratching his hand along Olle's scalp. “It's not enough, though, is it?” he asks, already knowing the answer.

“God,” Olle sighs, “I wish it was. I wish it was more than just enough to get you all killed.”

“I know,” the angel says. “I know it's delusional to think we are all going to make it through this. I know I couldn't have picked a worse time to pull my head out of my ass and tell you how I feel.”

“Knowing isn't what makes it awful,” Olle says quietly. “Knowing makes me want, more than I have in so long. It makes me want something I could have for myself, just for myself, the rest of the world be damned.”

“Then what is it?” Gabriel wants to know.

“I'm not real Gabe,” Olle says looking up at him. “Me, Beth, all my memories, all my feelings; I'm a shadow or a reflection or an ideal of someone who died. When it comes down to it, I'm everything and nothing. How can I be any good for anybody? Let alone you. All I've ever done is slink through time; passing on information like an immortal Google. I'm the servant who is so good at their job they are never noticed.”

“That's not true,” Gabriel says adamantly. “You kept me sane, kept me going, during the war and after. You've saved me, sometimes from myself. You've sacrificed more of yourself than anyone has a right to expect. You're real, you're human! Can't you see that?” he asks sadly.

“I'm a suicide Gabe,” he says with a lump in his throat. “All I wanted was to cease to be. All I wanted was to die and have the atheists be right! I wanted un-being, complete disillusion. Sometimes, I still want that.”

“Why, then,” he asks, “do you stay here when you could just fade away? Why do you fight? Why do you keep fighting? Why are you helping me?”

Olle adjusts their positions then so the angel is spooned into his chest before he says, “I fight because I feel the life in Creation and I want to protect it, preserve it, keep it safe. For a long time that was why I fought. I became obsessed with Azazel because I knew if he succeeded in bringing about the apocalypse it would mean either Michael would release the Darkness, destroying Creation, or Lucifer would kill Michael and destroy himself and Creation.” Olle runs his hands through the angel's hair and says, “In the end, I wanted to protect you. I didn't want you to have to both lose your brothers and lose the life you'd built for yourself.”

Gabriel snuggled into his chest, squeezing him tightly. “When I turned away from you,” he says sadly, “when I left you for Kali, I was a coward. I was running from the possibility you would fail and I'd have to watch them kill each other, but, probably even more so, I was running from the possibility you would succeed. If you stopped the apocalypse, I would really never be able to go home again, I would really never be able to see my brothers again, I would have to accept that Dad was never coming back and we were never going to be a family again.” Gabriel kisses Olle's chest, where his face is buried in the big man's peck, and says, “It was never about not loving you or trusting you or wanting to be with you. It was because I was a coward.” 

“I've been afraid before,” Olle says quietly. “I've been a coward. I've run from failure, the possibility of failure; I've even run from success and the possibility of success.”

Gabriel snorts a laugh, “I've never seen you run from anything. You're always the first one in and last one out.”

Olle makes a decision, hopes it is the right one, and says, “I want to show you who I was before the curse. I want you to see everything about me that I can't stand and I want you to see the only things I ever thought I'd love. Remembering made me see that the only reason I kept going as long as I did was them and the only reason I'm fighting now is to keep them safe.” 

“I've never read your mind before,” Gabriel says. “I've checked on you during nightmares, I've searched your consciousness for sanity during times of madness, I've even pulled things out you asked me to look at; this would be different.” 

“You need to know.” Olle looks down at him and smiles sadly, “You need to know I've been a coward. You need to see how and why I was cursed. Everything, every stupid, mortifying, awful thing about me I never want anyone to know; I need you to know. You need to understand why I came back to you after Hell.” Olle pulls the angel up and kisses him, “It was because I loved you, loved you for making me a better person than I'd ever been before; even if I didn't remember it. I loved you for taking care of me, for doing what was needed even when you thought it would mean destroying me.” 

Gabriel kisses him again before taking a deep breath and diving into the man's mind. He sees, then, from the instant of Olle's soul's birth to the moment of death, the curse, and his spiraling through time; he feels it all too and he pulls his probing essence away at the remembered pain of Olle's unmaking during The Big Bang but he holds on to see and feel everything up to this very conversation. 

“How do people stand it,” Gabriel asks through tears. “How do you keep going through the constant press of overwhelming emotion, both yours and those around you?”

“You never get use to it,” Olle says sadly. 

“What will you do when they're dead?” Gabriel asks, through heavy tears, rolling over and putting his hand over the names tattooed on Olle's side, by his heart.

“I don't,” Olle shakes his head, tearing up, “I can't think about that.”

“You were so loved,” he says wiping his eyes with his hand, trying to calm down. “You didn't want to die. You didn't want to leave them. How could they be so blind? How could they be so callous when you wanted, needed, asked for help? I'm so, so sorry the idea of staying became more unbearable than knowing how much you'd hurt them.”

Olle just nods his head; he is crying in earnest now, just as the angel stops. Gabriel molds himself to the big man and presses sweet kisses to his lips and face while he mumbles quiet soothing noises until they both fall asleep.

**

When Olle wakes up the next morning, he is drenched in sweat, panting, chasing away memories of literal Hellish nightmares. He has no idea how long Gabriel had been gone but it was long enough to ruin the chance for restful sleep. After his shower, he finds the angel upstairs playing pool, alone, and he leans against the door facing, watching, until Gabriel clears the table and looks up. 

“We need to talk, don't we?” Olle asks walking over to the table and picking up a cue. 

Gabriel talks while he racks, not looking at Olle, “We do. We know we can't keep doing this; can't keep getting in deeper and deeper until it turns into something we're willing to sacrifice the greater good to keep. Neither of us are dumb enough to believe we'll get through this unscathed. I'm willing to die, again, to stop Amara. I need to make sure I don't decide I'd rather live with you, and whatever comes, than die to save Creation.”

Olle breaks before speaking, “I'm solids. You're right.” He sinks two more balls before he misses and Gabriel steps up to shoot. “I know I'm going to lose some of you. I'm not foolish enough to believe I'll get to keep you. We can make distance work; we've done it before.”

Gabriel sinks his fifth ball but scratches on the sixth and Olle come back to the table. “I don't know how easy that is going to be Olle,” the angel says as he watches Olle win the game. 

“It has to be,” the man says starting to rack balls again. “I'm leaving later today and I'll make a point to stay gone. I'll keep in touch with Beth or Luce. Are you going to be okay with her here?”

Gabriel laughs at that, “I hadn't thought of it,” he says while he watches Olle break. “She is with Baz, and I've never been with you that you didn't, mostly and very specifically, bear a much stronger resemblance to you than her. Nothing that we've shared since I got back has anything to do with her; I do understand that you're two different people. I don't see her as anything other than your sister.” Gabriel steps up to take his shot, missing, before he goes on, “If it becomes a problem, it is something she and I will have to deal with.”

“Good,” Olle says clearing the table, winning again. “You're still my oldest, best, friend; you know that right?”

Gabriel laughs, “Who else would put up with you? Besides, who, besides you, knows me so completely? Of course we're still best friends.” 

As Olle leaves the game room, he feels better about the situation than he did when he first opened the door and saw Gabriel standing there. It doesn't feel like a loss, yet, because they will continue to be so much a part of each others lives.

After breakfast, Olle double checks his gear, grabs a few things from the armory, and his apothecary dining room, before he heads out; intent on the next case. Olle still refuses to admit, driving away, he would willingly sacrifice every life in Creation, beside three; and Gabriel was one of them.

It is another week, and three cases, before Olle runs into Sam and Dean again


End file.
